It was a hard day, though probably one similar to one many "real cruisers" have experienced.  Today we had to let go of our conviction that we would be heading for the Keys this weekend.  We have been pushing so hard on this goal and it has been such an amazing time of teamwork and concerted effort.  Maybe that's what I'm grieving most, but I had time off lined up; we had a buddy boat ready to go;  we had dug deep into the kitty for so many things that had been sitting there waiting to rise to the top of the list: up-to-date flares; spare GPS and VHF; rode markers; Racor filters; dinghy bridle etc., etc., etc..  We will go soon, but somehow it feels like such a defeat to let go of our date.

We had the fuel polishers today and they found ...   ...    ......     ...............       Nothing.  Dammit!  We so wanted them to find and fix the cause of our engine failure over this past weekend.  If only they'd seen goobers and chunks coming out of the tank, we could have moved on under the theory that the proximate cause had been addressed.  As it stands, all we know is that the engine failed at an unbelievably fortuitous moment, relatively speaking; that the Racor bowl was full of chunks; that the vacuum gauge was well into the red; and that no sediment was extracted from the tank.

More likely that there's no more sediment left to clog the Racor, or that the polishing simply failed to extract the copious sediment that is present due to Lark's long idle period?  More likely that we are out of the woods by sheer joyous luck or that the Racor will clog and starve the engine of fuel the minute we get into anything lumpy like we did on Saturday?  More likely we'll run down Hawk's Channel with the reef on the left and the islands on the right without a hiccup, or have to  throw the anchor over at a moment's notice and sit and wait for Tow Boat and our $20000 ticket from Fish and Game?

No, we have to address the fuel system definitively before we can go.  Which will mean another couple weeks at least.  Which means working around other plans for a week and a half in March.  Which mean at least another month before we try again.  

Welcome to cruising, right?   Plans written in sand at low tide and all that.  Good times.