Velcro Beach?

Melbourne to Vero Beach – 33 nautical miles sailed, 4 bridges, 1 mile by dinghy, 5 kilometres walked

By 6am the wind had died and the river’s surface was glassy and calm. As we slid out of the anchorage, our dolphin friends appeared on both sides of the boat, wishing us farewell, hoping we enjoyed the show. We did.

 

The passage today ran in straight lines, through the wide Indian River, which is barely tidal and only partially salty, clearly an attractive habitat for dolphins as we saw them nearly every mile we traveled. Yet every time one surfaced, Ana would shriek and grab her phone to catch a video. She admitted to me yesterday that she’s never understood those people afflicted with that inexplicable infatuation with dolphins - attending overpriced marine parks to see them do tricks for fish, paying a fortune to Swim With The Dolphins at Caribbean not-exactly-all-inclusive resorts, inking their body with blue and grey dolphin tattoos, dolphin wallpaper in their bedrooms, watching reruns of Flipper on their VHS machines, and dolphin stuffies on, behind, and beneath their home furniture. But after our own recent dolphin experiences, she feels her life’s porpoise has been revealed, and is considering a dolphin neck tattoo at our next stop. She’s already been sculpting her morning toast in the shape of dolphins so there may be no stopping her.

 

We reached Vero Beach and after a short wait for two boats to leave the fuel dock (and yes, we saw dolphins while we waited), we tied up, filled the diesel and water, pumped the holding tank, and got registered for three nights on mooring ball #40. The staff were incredibly proficient and helpful and reminded us that this place is known by boaters as “Velcro Beach” as they have a terrible time peeling themselves away from here. The mooring field was packed, with two to three boats at each location, which we have not seen before. We found our spot and eased up to the boat that was already moored there. They gave us a hand getting rafted onto their boat, using a number of lines and fenders, then we also attached two bow lines to the mooring pendant. We had a chat with them – Brian and Penny from Michigan on their 40+ foot ketch-rigged Morgan called “Wind Trippin”, and they gave us a few tips on Vero Beach as they’d been here two years previous on their first pilgrimage to Bahamas.

 

After we were settled and I’d dropped the dinghy into the water, we went into shore, jammed ourselves into the packed dinghy dock, and started walking through the residential neighbourhoods towards the beach. I was fascinated with the trees that hung over the streets – their limbs reached out like octopus arms and had few leaves but a hairy toupee of fuzzy moss and some brandished green, spiny cactus tentacles, hanging from their limbs like weapons.

 

We found the public beach access, which had a commercial plaza with a oceanside restaurant/bar and a boutique that Ana beelined for, while I continued out towards the water. The beach was expansive and lovely, and there was more activity here than the one we visited yesterday at Melbourne – people walking, a few swimmers, two guys zipping through the water on powered eFoil surfboards, scavengers with metal detectors, and another who sped across the hard packed sand on a Onewheel. I spread out my low-tech blanket, changed into my swimsuit under the protective coverage of a towel, and ran down the beach, and dove into a big oncoming wave. It was cold and glorious. I licked the salt on my lips, relishing the taste, as I floated effortlessly on my back, looking up into the sky, but also listening to the underwater ocean melody. I was ready for more, much more of this.

Ana arrived and we sat on the beach for a long while and left only when the sun had dropped and it was beginning to cool off. During the return walk I noticed the businesses we passed were primarily financial and wealth management companies, lawyers, realtors, and fancy boutiques. And the many vehicles on the road were all high-end varieties. This was not a poor neighbourhood.

 

Like yesterday, we returned to the boat just as the sun was dipping down and had a sundowner. After a while our neighbours Penny and Brian returned to their boat, so we asked them to join us for a drink, and we sat together exchanging stories until nearly Mariner’s Midnight. We had a lot in common and so much to talk about.