Plot Twist’s First Big Journey: A Day of Dolphins, Locks, and Lessons Cruising on Our Kadey-Krogen 48

Day One

Ft Myers to Labelle, Florida

 

After three months tied securely at Snookbight Marina in Estero Bay, it was finally time. Plot Twist, our Kadey-Krogen 48 trawler, was prepped, provisioned, and ready for her first real adventure as part of our new liveaboard cruising lifestyle.

Little did we know that our “simple” first day would deliver dolphins, unexpected decisions, anchoring escapades, and our official initiation into the famous boating phrase: Break Out Another Thousand.

7:00 AM — Casting Off From Snookbight Marina

The morning began with the low rumble of our diesel engine and that unmistakable mix of nerves and excitement that comes with first-time trawler owners heading out on their maiden voyage. After months of dreaming, learning systems, and preparing for life aboard, we untied from the face dock—our first time leaving completely on our own.

We were thrilled to go, but we already felt a tug of nostalgia for the community we’d built at Snookbight Marina. If you’re looking for the best marina in Estero Bay, we highly recommend Snookbight for its fantastic, friendly staff.

A Dolphin Send-Off Into Cruising Life

As we eased into the bay, the water erupted into motion. A pod of dolphins appeared, playing off our bow as if escorting us out of Estero Bay. It felt like the ocean itself was wishing us luck.

Our original goal for the day was straightforward:
👉 Navigate out of the bay
👉 Head up the channel
👉 Anchor near the first lock to stage for the next morning’s crossing

But cruising plans are written in sand—and rewritten by the tide.

Navigating the Channel: Bridges, Sunken Boats, and Scenic Views

We made our way slowly up the channel, absorbing the scenery—quiet Florida riverfront homes, grazing cows, and stretches of serene water perfect for a slow cruising trawler. I handled bridge openings on the VHF radio while my husband focused on keeping our Kadey-Krogen centered in the channel.

We also encountered the sobering sight of several hurricane-damaged sunken boats, still visible beneath the surface. A reminder of why navigation charts, depth awareness, local knowledge, and constant vigilance matter on the Okeechobee Waterway.

A Midday Plot Twist

When we reached our planned anchorage, our energy level was still high and our nerves were buzzing. That’s when one of us said it:

“What if we… just do the lock today?”
And the other replied,
“Yep. Let’s just get it over with.”

I honestly can’t remember which of us said it. LOL, but we were both thinking it.

So we did.

We successfully navigated our first lock on the Okeechobee Waterway, and for a pair of new boat owners, it felt like conquering a mountain. When the gates closed behind us, we exchanged the kind of smile that said: We’re really doing this.

Anchoring at LaBelle (After a Few Attempts)

By late afternoon, we reached a cozy anchorage near LaBelle, Florida.

Later, while reviewing our day’s stats (because boaters love data), I proudly shared our mileage with my husband.

We’d traveled 53.59 miles between 8:00 a.m. and 4:58 p.m. Not lightning fast, but solid mileage for a full-displacement trawler on her first big outing.

My husband looked at it, then looked at me with a teasing grin:

“You know we could’ve driven that in under an hour, right?”

He wasn’t wrong…
But he wasn’t right either.

Because cruising isn’t about speed.

It’s about dolphins playing off your bow.
It’s about your first bridge call.
It’s about learning to trust your boat—and each other.
It’s about locks you didn’t plan to take and anchorages that teach you lessons.
It’s about slowing down long enough to enjoy the journey.

Plot Twist may not move fast, but she’s taking us exactly where we’re meant to go.

Nightfall: Anchor Alarms and Unwanted Adrenaline

Just when we thought the day was finally slowing down, night had other plans.

Sometime after dark, just as we were drifting off in that delicious mix of exhaustion and accomplishment, our anchor alarm shrieked to life. If you’ve never heard one—imagine a smoke detector… but angrier. We bolted upright, wide awake, hearts hammering.

Still half tangled in blankets, we scrambled up to the pilothouse, eyes adjusting as the soft glow of the plotter confirmed what the alarm was already screaming:

Plot Twist wasn’t where Plot Twist was supposed to be.

Or… was she?

This is the maddening question every new cruiser faces:
Are we dragging… or just swinging?

We stepped outside with flashlights, the air warm and still. Ahead of us, the jagged tree line silhouette, and I swear it looked closer than it had before. My husband checked our bearings while I scanned the water for reference points.

A mast light bobbed off our starboard side—another boat anchored nearby—but its position angled differently than ours. They were using a stern anchor, which meant they stayed fixed in one direction while we… well, danced in slow circles like a clumsy sea ballerina.

To the untrained eye, it looked ominous.
To us, it looked like trouble waiting to happen.

We ran through the checks:

• GPS track? Widening slightly.
• Distance to treeline? Hard to judge in the dark.
• Other boaters’ swing patterns? Unhelpful—because they weren’t swinging at all.
• Depth? Steady.
• Wind? Light and shifting just enough to play tricks.

We waited. Watched. Measured. Compared the angle of the anchor line. Checked the plotter again.

Plot Twist wasn’t dragging.
She was just swinging differently from the boats pinned in place by stern anchors—absolutely normal, but terrifying when you’re new and your alarm is screeching like a wounded pterodactyl.

We reset the alarm with a wider radius and tried to go back to sleep.

Tried.

Because every rustle of current, every shift of wind, every faint bump from the hull sent our eyes popping open again. Welcome to night one of the cruising life, where sleep is optional and boat monitoring is a team sport.

Until the next morning, when we woke and discovered that Plot Twist did drift and our anchor had dragged.

And this is where we fully embraced the charming acronym:

B.O.A.T. = Break Out Another Thousand. Because we need a new anchor.

And the next day, I learned that the man I married is truly amazing at avoiding disaster…