Fort Lauderdale – 8 miles by dinghy, 7 kilometres by bus, 14 kilometres by Uber, 5 kilometres walked
Our first morning in Fort Lauderdale. A cold front had dropped the evening temperature, keeping the boat cool and great for sleeping. But with it came persistent northerly winds blowing 15 to 20 knots with mainly overcast skies and a longer range forecast that wasn’t encouraging. But we were now settled here on our mooring ball and not going anywhere for at least three weeks so we’d take the days as they came.
After a leisurely breakfast and some pottering around on the boat, we were happy to see Ben and Kate arrived to the anchorage, and I gave them a hand getting attached to the mooring. They had caught up to us again and were staying for one night before continuing their push south, so we were thankful for at least a short visit. They had fueled up at a nearby marina but the marina refused to give them any water to fill their dry tanks, so Ana and I got their water jugs and took off in search of a free tap. We first tried to find one that was market on Lake Sylvia, but after ducking under two bridges and peering into peoples’ houses and yards, we gave up on finding it. We continued up the New River, at a punishingly slow speed through the No Wake zone for what felt like hours until we finally located Smoker Family Park and found a public tap and free pump out facility. We filled up the jugs, loaded them back into the dinghy, and did the return trip, along the way receiving a call from Ben wondering if we’d gotten ourselves lost.
We unloaded the water then met Ben and Kate at the dinghy dock for a visit to Walmart via a long walk up Las Olas Boulevard. We had to get some water jugs of our own after deciding we were not going to invest thousands of dollars in a water maker for our time in Bahamas and would instead haul water from shore sources when we could find it. The full walk to the store was nearly two hours, so half way we caught a bus, transferred to another bus, almost had to pay a second time due to our unfamiliarity with the Fort Lauderdale transit system, then got off at the Walmart stop and headed into the store. We found four 7-gallon Reliance water jugs (shockingly, made in Canada) then loaded up the cart with a bunch of other stuff we needed – engine oil, fuel stabilizer, groceries. While Ben and Kate had a modest amount of stuff, we were overloaded well past the point of a feasible public transit solution and we really hesitated to steal the two Walmart carts and push them back to the marina. So we called an Uber. Then waited.
Kate noticed something. She said, pointing, “Umm, just doing a sanity check here, but do you guys see a chicken over there?”
“Chicken? I don’t see any chicken,” said Ben, straight-faced.
Our smiles gave it away. “I actually see three chickens,” said Ana as two more popped out of the bushes and held up traffic as they walked lawfully across the marked pedestrian zone.
“Go and ask them why they’re crossing the road,” Ben said to me. I just took a photo instead. None of the other dozens of people or drivers seem curious with the presence of free-range chickens at Walmart that were not wrapped and packaged in cellophane, so it’s guess it’s normal round these parts.
We rammed, jammed, and crammed all of our gear into the Uber driver’s vehicle and she only seemed a little annoyed. The unloading back at the park near the dinghy dock was much faster, as we tossed it all into the grass, creating the scene of a homeless encampment, but then we sherpa’d up and hauled it over to the waiting dinghys.
Ben and Kate popped over to SeaLight after dinner for our last evening together for a while; next one would be somewhere in Bahamas, sometime in the future. We made rum punch and snacked on fresh pineapple as we watched a mini-parade of Christmas-lighted and decorated yachts passing by. Tomorrow was Fort Lauderdale’s annual Christmas boat parade, so tonight was the pre-show. Yes, light displays of snowmen, Santa, sleds, and snowballs didn’t make much sense here, but it’s all fun nonetheless.
We visited until well after Mariner’s Midnight with not a break in the conversation. We hugged our friends, said our goodbyes, then watched them paddle back to their boat, but I think we may have mixed that rum punch too strong as Ben’s one arm stopped working and their dinghy went in circles.
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