A Marathon Holiday

Friday, December 31, 2004
Marathon, FL

Vanessa with Santa Pirate

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from Marathon, FL. This certainly is a holiday season like none I have ever experienced. No media blitz pushing the ever-increasingly commercialized Christmas that we have come to know so well. No blisteringly cold weather or snow to plow. None of my usual “bah-humbug.” Especially noticeable for me, this is the first Christmas in twelve years where I didn’t have to go to work! This Christmas feels a lot like the television commercial for Corona Beer showing an island hut with somebody is whistling “Oh, Christmas Tree” then flicking a switch and lighting up a Christmas palm tree. It’s fantastic!

Binga and Birdie, Dockside, Marathon, FL

From a boater’s perspective, Marathon is the place to be. It is the only completely protected harbor in all the Florida Keys and it is loaded with boats – lots of boats. The whole place is very boater oriented. Every morning, boaters get together on the VHF marine radio for the “Marathon Harbor Net,” where boaters can stay on top of happenings in Marathon, ask questions, ask for help, listen to the weather, check on boats arriving or boats departing, and buy and sell gear. In Marathon, there is a boatyard, lots of marinas, and plenty of services all with in walking distance of everything. Plus, rent in the harbor is free. We arrived here the day before Christmas and had only planned on staying two or three days. We’ve been here a whole week.

Sleep Eyes on Christmas Morning

It is quite a tight boat community here. It became apparent when we went ashore at the Sombrero Marina and Dockside Lounge – a stereotypical keys type of place: pull up in your dingy, tie up, step up to the bar or walk over to the food counter to place an order for some conch fritters. The Dockside is the local place where boaters gather, collect mail, do laundry, rape, pillage, plunder, etc., etc., etc. It is where we celebrated our simple little Christmas.

Binga Loves her New Toys from Santa

Vanessa and I didn’t even get each other any gifts. It just wasn’t necessary. This whole trip is gift enough. Santa, however, did pay a visit to our boat. We started early Christmas morning with Binga waking up to check on Santa’s status. He had, indeed, landed on our boat, dropped off presents, and consumed the cookies and milk Binga had left for him and the reindeer. She was so excited! The rest of the day was spent on the phone telling all her grand parents exactly what Santa brought her for Christmas.

Christmas Dinner, Dockside

Later, we dingied over to Dockside for the annual Marathon Cruisers Pot-Luck Christmas dinner and joined hundreds of other sailors in celebrating the Christmas holiday under the Florida sun. What a way to spend Christmas. These people live and breath boating! They are fanatics. I suppose this is what happens when you add too much sun and alcohol to a normal holiday, but these folks were a riot.

Of course, holiday cheer isn’t cheery without friends to celebrate with. As a cruiser, you make friends fast, with sailing such a common bond. Such is the case with Dave and Deb aboard the Westsail 32 Kabuki. We started out just talking about our common interest (Westsails) and ended up spending a lot of time together. Dave and Deb are six months into living aboard and now heading out on an adventure of their own, sailing on to the Bahamas and who knows where. Ah, to be back at the beginning like the crew of Kabuki. I envy them; they have their whole trip ahead of them. We are at our adventure’s end.

Vanessa, Steve, and Binga with Fellow Westsailors Deb and Dave of Kabuki

Unfortunately, fast made friends also turn into short good-byes. We said our good-byes to all our Marathon friends, weighed anchor and left the harbor. As I write this, we are anchored outside of Marathon Harbor, waiting for the morn to begin our trip north; we’ve rounded the final bend and are in the home stretch. From here, all we need is the sun and a stead breeze to get ourselves under way.

So that is how we are ringing in the New Year, in preparation for the final sailing leg of this trip. We still have four to five solid days of sailing left, so I don’t dare settle and reflect on where we are, where we’ve been, or where we are going. Not yet, anyway. Although I can feel it – the end is near. Had the weather window for the Bahamas opened before the window to travel north, I’d have been very tempted to follow Deb and Dave over that horizon and just keep going. But, alas, tomorrow we’ll start the beginning of our end. Thank you Marathon for a fantastic holiday season.