First thing after breakfast, I rode the bus to a boatyard that had been highly recommended. I should say, I tried to ride the bus. The bus took me to the right street, but when I walked down the street trying to find the boatyard, I ended up at the river, on the wrong side. There was no bridge, and I wasn't wearing my water-walking shoes, so I had to walk the six or seven blocks back to where I'd gotten off the bus and then walk five or six blocks to Davie Boulevard, where I could have gotten off the bus in the first place. Then I walked six or seven blocks to the Davie Boulevard Bridge, getting there just as they were about to open it. Eventually it closed, and I got to the other side. Then I walked another five or six blocks down SW 15th Avenue until I came to another dead end. There are so many canals in this city, that you can't go very far in any direction without coming to water. So then I had to zig right and zag left to get to Summerfield Boat Works. It looked like a very good yard, and their prices, under Plan A, were excellent. The catch is that we would have to buy all our materials from their store, which wouldn't be so bad except the kind of bottom paint Roy wants to use costs $185 in their store. We can get it for half that at West Marine, but if we bring in supplies from elsewhere, they put us on Plan B and the rate immediately goes to $700! Roy didn't like this arrangement at all when I told him about it, so I'll phone a bunch of other yards and get their rates. We can't get into Summerfield's before Friday anyway.
After lunch, I rode the bus all the way to the end of the line. Went past miles of beautiful beaches. A lot of people were sunbathing, and some were in the water. On the way back, I stopped at a Publix Market to buy some groceries, but it wasn't as good as the ones farther north.
Roy continued working on the installation of the new batteries. These will be dedicated to starting the engine and not used for anything else. He wired up the new isolator he bought at West Marine. Shortly before seven, he started the engine. Instantly, we smelled something burning and the cockpit filled with smoke. Roy turned everything off and investigated. He finally determined the alternator was fried. So now we not only have batteries that are nearly dead, we don't even have a way to recharge them other than the wind generator and the solar panels. Fortunately, the wind has been blowing pretty hard, and it was a sunny day, but we don't dare use any electrical appliances, including the refrigerator, and we only have one light on.
Another sailboat came in and dropped anchor, as there are no more mooring buoys available. The skipper was single-handing. When he went someplace in his dinghy, his boat began to drag. Every time a gust of wind hit it, it dragged more. It was headed towards another sailboat and eventually the bridge, so Roy called the Coast Guard on the VHF, and they sent a boat out. Just before the Coast Guard arrived, the guys on the boat next to us, that the Pelagic was dragging towards, returned to their boat and did what they could to prevent a collision. The Coast Guardies didn't seem to know what to do; they just went around in circles. Then the Pelagic's owner arrived, moved her to a new location, and dropped two anchors, which seemed to hold. Another crisis ended.
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