Pistol Shrimp, A Cracked TV, Are We On Fire? Some Perspective, And More.
- Chuck Hewett
- Mar 3
- 5 min read
Updated: Mar 4
We had planned to leave Key West to head north on Wednesday, March 4, but the weather gods had other ideas. The more we looked, the more it became clear that a smooth crossing to Marco Island depended on leaving no later than Sunday, March 1. Otherwise we would likely be spending another week or ten days in Key West before crossing conditions suitable for the Admiral would return.
We scheduled a dawn departure on Sunday only to find ourselves enshrouded in thick fog when daylight belatedly arrived that morning. Sigh. Fog does not commonly occur in the Keys but it now blanketed the entire area--from Marathon to Key West to the Marquesas, Marco Island and Fort Myers. Forecasters first said it would burn off at 7:00; then 11:00. I looked at the water temperature and the forecast air temps and suspected we'd have pea soup most of the day. More optimistic, the Admiral at first wanted to wait. But then remembering our many adventures in Maine fog, she approved departure when the fog briefly granted nearly a mile of visibility. Off we went only to find ourselves back down to visibility of 50 meters or less as soon as we left the harbor. Nonetheless, committed, we carried on taking heart from two frigate birds that crossed low over our bow.
For the 120 mile trip, we traveled much more in thick fog than not though we did have some short breaks with five miles or so of visibility. Finally, we broke out of the fog about14:00 hours and 15 miles from Capri Pass and the Big Marco River. Navigating always demands focused attention but especially so in fog. Staring ahead for crab pots, monitoring the radar for other boats, and deviating appropriately for both strains concentration and tires you out. We were happy to arrive at Marco Island Marina--a pleasant facility immediately adjacent to the Yacht Club.
During that day's cruise, the Admiral's sensitive nose smelled smoke. We both looked around the cabin and couldn't find anything even warm, let alone hot enough to smoke. So I ventured out into the cockpit to check the engine room. Wow. Strong odor of smoke out there. Oh no! I opened the engine room hatch latches, lay down, and carefully cracked open the hatch to peak below (If there were a fire, you don't want to give it any more air than necessary). Nothing obvious so I fully opened the hatch and down I went. As always when underway, there was plenty of warmth in the engine room but no smoke or fire. Whew. Then it dawned on us. We had heard on the news about a big fire in the Everglades. With a 10-15 knot easterly, we were crossing directly through its smoke plume. Mystery solved.
That would not be the only mystery of the week. Monday morning the Admiral called to me from the master berth where I thought she was just being a slug-abed. "I hear crackling; listen." Having had long years of unprotected hearing with power tools, chain saws, lawn mowers, snow blowers, tractors and weapons, my hearing has significantly diminished. But, in the still of morning, I too could hear snap, crackle and pop. What could it be? Dripping water? Bad electrical connection? Mice? Loosening cabinetry fitting? Something else? And, where could it be. The Admiral appropriately insisted: "We just can't ignore this." So we got into investigative mode yet again. There's a hatch to the bilge aft of the master berth where I have built extra storage. I pulled everything out of that compartment. Sure enough, leaning in therre you could hear the sound even better but it seemed to be to the sides and forward. Underneath the mattress in the master berth there's a large hatch--maybe 30" by 40". Moving the mattress was the hard
part. Then I extracted four screws and popped out the hatch. Underneath is the air conditioning heat exchanger for that part of the boat. We carefully looked around and below it: No loose wires; no drips; no mice no obvious cabinetry deterioration. But the sound was definitive and sounded like it was coming through the hull. Hmm?
The Admiral got on line asking, "What's making a crackling noise under my Sabre 45." Google shot back (pun intended), "Pistol shrimp" (which are also known as snapping
shrimp). Apparently, the growth on the boat bottom in warm water attracts these critters. Omnivores, 2 inch long pistol shrimp will eat a variety of vegetative matter but even more happily dine on other small beasties attracted to the buffet on a boat bottom. In the process, they make a sound often characterized as like Rice Crispies or sizzling bacon. Pistol shrimp got their name from their large claw which fires in a millisecond to create a shockwave and heat that instantly kills or stuns small prey (fish, crabs, etc) . Interestingly, if they lose that large claw, their small claw quickly develops the "pistol" function and a new small claw grows where the original pistol claw was attached. Who knew? Pistol shrimp are nearly blind and often live synergistically with Goby fish. The Goby keeps an eye out for predators and the pistol shrimp keeps their mutual home clean.
In any event, tomorrow morning, a diver will come and clean our hull. Hopefully, the cleaning will restore peace and quiet to the Admiral's sleep and, at least for a while, spare me from her complaints. If not, we may have a larger problem like accelerating electrolysis. We are hoping for the best.
On boats, problems never happen one at a time. Sunday night as I raised the TV in
anticipation of relaxing after our trip from Key West, the TV caught on the lip of its cabinet and before I could stop it cracked its screen. Not one to be without TV, the
Admiral got on the phone first thing Monday morning to find a replacement--no small matter since the seven year old TV is long out of stock and we need to find one with the dimensions to fit in the cabinet and attached to the hideaway stand. She found an electronics guy who supposedly will arrive soon with a suitable replacement and install it. Again, we'll see.
Three last things: First, we almost always leave the table and settee in the cockpit covered. The cover protects it from all kinds of assaults; e.g., bird poop, air plane exhaust; smoke soot; and especially rain. However, planning to be in Naples for several days at the City Dock, it seemed like a good time to uncover and enjoy our outdoor living room. Of course, a torrential and surprisingly long lasting shower came out of no where and soaked everything. Once the rain abated, we recovered the cushions and put them
in what the Admiral calls the cellar, the utility space below the main salon, for the evening. They dried surprisingly well overnight and this morning's sun and breeze finished the job. They seem no worse for the wear.
Second: Check out these pictures I took of a cormorant dining on fish next to the boat this morning. A bad day for the fish! Aren't iPhones amazing?
Finally: perspective. Katahdin's hull is 45 feet long and with her anchor pulpit and swim platform, she officially measures at 49 feet. We think she's a pretty big vessel. However,
the Bella Vita, our neighbor on the wharf last night at Naples City Dock dwarfed her. We enjoyed watching her crew wait on the two owners and their dogs and admired their professional departure this morning. As for us, we are very happy on Katahdin!
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