Today’s the day I signed my life away and became the proud new owner of Odyssey. We were up with the larks for an early breakfast and headed up Interstate 95 to Fort Lauderdale to meet Jim Eckells on the boat. He wasn’t there when we arrived, so I showed Jim and Sue around. They seemed to like what they saw, as did I. It’s a relief that each time I go back to see the boat I still like it, and haven’t found anything to put me off it. I guess it’s too late now anyway, but when it comes to boats I go by the heart as much as the head, and this boat gives me a good feeling.
Jim E. soon arrived with reams of paperwork for me to sign. The deed was soon done and he left again, leaving me wondering whether I should feel scared or excited. In the end I opted for neither, and decided to play it cool. After all, it’s only a 50-foot ketch for goodness sake – nothing to get in a lather about!
I then took Jim and Sue to see my home at Beach Villas, and Spanky (the manager) showed me the apartment I’ll have on my return next Thursday. Previously I’d been in #6, on the first floor facing the road, but now I’m going to be in #5, which is on the ground floor overlooking the canal at the back of the building. It’s bigger than my last one with a better kitchen, and best of all is my own terrace right on the water next to the boats. Fantastic, and I can’t wait to move in.
After leaving Beach Villas we cruised up the beach, Jim filming all the while as ever. It was packed with hot sweaty bodies as it was Saturday lunch-time, and there were lots of lovely sights to be seen. However we couldn’t linger and left Fort Lauderdale behind us to head north up I-95.
The drive north to Palm Beach is about 50 miles of motorway following the coast, which is built-up all the way with endless hotels and apartment blocks. We left at Junction 76 and headed for Singer Island, named after the guy who made his fortune out of sewing machines, and now the home of the John MacArthur State Park. This is a chunk of swamp, lagoon and beach which has been preserved in pristine condition and is the first bit of undeveloped coastline you come to from Miami, 70 miles to the south.
John D. MacArthur Beach State Park
We had a very pleasant picnic on the beach and soaked up some rays for an hour or two while the Atlantic waves crashed onto the white sand. I dozed while Jim and Sue went for a stroll, then we reluctantly had to leave around 4pm to continue our journey north.
Once back on I-95 I flicked on the cruise control and we all sat back and relaxed for 150 miles. Driving in this country is so easy with long straight roads so we made good time, arriving at Cocoa Beach by 7.30pm. This is just south of Cape Canaveral and our room for the night was at the Surf Studios, a nice little place right on the beach. We had a little apartment to ourselves just steps away from the ocean, so I fell asleep to the sound of the Atlantic, something I’m sure I’ll be hearing (and seeing!) a lot more of before too long…