Day Three in Fort Myers Beach

Monday (8/18/14) Ft. Myers Beach

Today is our one-week anniversary of cruising. We are 103 nautical miles and seven days removed from Regatta Pointe. We are moored at Ft. Myers Beach enjoying the bay view.

Cindy did not sleep well at all last night. The heat was pretty intense. The breezes have completed died down at night leaving an uncomfortable sensation of heat and humidity inside. I did okay, but it was sticky! Despite the rough night, we’ve had a very nice and productive day. We did not get off of Beatitude until 4:30 in the afternoon. Cindy spent all morning cleaning the interior of the boat. Beatitude’s salon and owner’s suite looks marvelous! I lended a hand on occasion, but primarily spent the morning studying for my emergency medicine board recertification exam. We were visited by a couple of motorized hang gliders which swooped through the mooring field.



Today, Cindy repotted the Christmas Cactus as well as planted a few new flowers for our cockpit.

Today, Cindy repotted the Christmas Cactus as well as planted a few new flowers for our cockpit.

After some BLT’s for lunch and a comeback victory in Rummy on my part, we decided to go to Doc Ford’s for dinner. Going to what we heard was maybe the nicest place near the beach was an exercise in futility. They didn’t have dinghy docks so we secured the dinghy to the piling and scaled the 3 ft distance between the dinghy and the dock (not a major chore for me, but interesting for Cindy). Once we got to Doc Ford’s, there was a notice on the door saying they were closed for 2 weeks for repairs. So, we descended from the docks into the dinghy and went to Ugly’s, where we had too much fried seafood and the largest drink known to man.


Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay

Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay

After dinner, we went to the laundry room for wifi and did a little net surfing and blog work. Then, just before dark, we made our way back to Beatitude, where we watched the last episode of John Adams. We both cried like babies with John Adams at the death of his wife Abigail. And then, off to bed.

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