Space Out

Story by Heather Steinberger / Photos by Richard Steinberger

SPACE OUT

Exploring Florida’sSpace Coast aboard a Manitou pontoon.

It was obvious we weren’t going to reach the Canaveral Lock before the storm hit. Angry purple clouds roiled the western sky, and with every passing minute, they seemed much closer.

We spun 180 degrees and pointed the Manitou Explore 22’s nose eastward. We slipped past Royal Caribbean’s Independence of the Seas, and then Carnival’s Liberty; both would be departing Port Canaveral soon, bound for the Bahamas and the lower latitudes.

Already, we could see newly embarked passengers buzzing along the decks. Some waved from balconies or windows as they saw us cruise past, far below their staterooms.

Just east of Liberty, we quickly tucked into the Freddie Patrick Park Boat Ramp basin and nestled the Manitou’s starboard bow against the top of the dock. Then we let the north wind, now blowing like stink, push our aft end backward.

In a matter of minutes, we were firmly secured to the dock, protected by Port Canaveral’s massive Terminal 3 to the west and the higher Jetty Park Campground to the east. Just in time, as the first raindrops began to fall.

I was helping my teenage daughter step onto the dock when I detected movement out of the corner of my eye. A green sea turtle glided to the surface, took a sip of air and paused, as if he too were waiting to see what the weather would do next.

We didn’t have to wait long. The heavens unleashed, and we dashed to the nearby Water’s Edge Cafe, grateful and laughing. There is no better way to experience a new place than by water, at the helm of your own ship.

Aboard a next-level pontoon

When we arrived at the Kelly Park East Boat Ramp earlier, we knew inclement weather was likely. It had been forecast for days with a massive low-pressure system churning offshore, so we were delighted to find a sparkling morning with clear skies and warm sunshine.

Our ride for the day was a 2023 Manitou Explore 22 MAX with the Switchback cockpit configuration. Before we put her in the water, I took a little extra time to get acquainted with her, because this pontoon boat is absolutely next-level.

Lansing, Michigan-based Manitou uses a proprietary manufacturing technique to form the cruising pontoon’s body with durable, curved aluminum wall panels. This allows stylish, ultramodern automotivestyle shaping without the extra weight that would come with traditional fiberglass and gelcoat construction. The panels also are easy to replace in the event of any damage — as easy as replacing a car bumper.

The Manitou Explore 22 is actually a tri-toon, with a deeper center sponson. I took advantage of the boat’s time on the trailer, ducking underneath to see the sponsons for myself. Its design utilizes what Manitou calls “V-Toon” technology. Each sponson’s reinforced nose cone is designed with a sharp leading edge, which provides a flatter, smoother ride.

This particular Manitou Explore 22 featured a Rotax S150 outboard engine, which is lighter than a traditional outboard and provides better torque. It’s also a stealth outboard, oriented horizontally. This allows you to enjoy the MAX Deck swim platform, which has a whopping 38 square feet of unobstructed space.

I’ve written articles in the past about the pros and cons of outboard-powered boats. While the Manitou Explore 22 is available with a traditional outboard, the Rotax ensures that losing valuable real estate at the transom no longer needs to be part of the equation.

The MAX Deck made our Manitou a “22+4.” The 22 is cockpit length, while the extra 4 feet comes from that expansive swim platform.

In addition, our boat had a 12-foot Sport Bimini on a tubular aluminum arch, a rock-solid installation rated to 55 mph. Smoky panels in the arch maintain a sleek look without hindering visibility.

I noted the inviting Switchback loungers, which can face fore or aft; the comfortable, custom-molded cushions; the array of cupholders and USB outlets; impressive storage for water toys; and the woven cockpit flooring that is soft for bare feet and will stay cool on hot days. I also appreciated the Garmin touchscreen display with all digital switches and gauges, which definitely has an automotive feel.

The Manitou Explore 22 is made for luxurious day cruising, and I couldn’t wait to splash her.

Cruising the Banana River

Our first waypoint for the day was the Banana River, which actually isn’t a river at all; it’s a 31-mile brackish lagoon that lies between Cape Canaveral and Merritt Island on Florida’s east coast. Its northern reaches lie within Kennedy Space Center, and in the south, it merges with the Indian River Lagoon.

This rich ecosystem includes seagrass beds, mangroves, salt marshes, oyster bars and mudflats, and it’s laced with spoil islands from the dredging of the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway in 1951-1961. This is the place to be for boating, fishing (think: Snook, redfish and trout), bird- and wildlife-watching, hiking and camping.

We glided out of the boat ramp basin. With a wide-open expanse of water ahead, I stood at the helm and throttled up. The Manitou Explore 22 smoothly rose onto plane, and with a slight trim adjustment, we were racing southward. Then I spun the wheel.

Instead of skittering and slapping through the turn, the Manitou dug in, performing like a traditional boat rather than a pontoon. Pleased, I pointed her northward into a freshening breeze.

That’s when two things became readily apparent. First, the Banana River has an average depth of about 4 feet; that means any wind will create significant chop. Second, the Banana River is a crabbing hotspot, and whitecaps make crabpot buoys much harder to see.

Our straight-line cruise was now more of a slalom exercise, but I was impressed with the Manitou’s beautiful handling. She was responsive, immediately carving turns as requested, and she gave us a flat, smooth ride despite the toothy chop.

We cruised underneath the Beachline Expressway, hoping to get a better view of Kennedy Space Center and the iconic Vehicle Assembly Building. Alas, we hit the Banana River’s “No Motor Zone.”

A disappointment, to be sure. But this is a good thing for space center security, and it provides a much-needed sanctuary for wildlife, including the resident manatee population.

So we turned back, and just before the Beachline bridge, we turned to port and entered the Canaveral Lock — the Banana River’s only outlet to the Atlantic. It operates from 6 a.m. to 9:30 p.m. seven days a week, monitors marine VHF radio channel 13, and is free for vessels drawing up to 12 feet.

Locking through

Opened in 1965, the Canaveral Lock is the largest navigation lock in Florida. According to the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, it was built larger than planned to allow passage of the Saturn rocket’s first stage; today, lock traffic still includes booster rockets.

I had never experienced a lock, so I was excited to see how this would work. The first thing I spotted was what appeared to be a massive black fence leading toward the lock itself. This is the fender system, which serves as a waiting room.

We approached with the fender system to starboard and pulled the throttle back to neutral, allowing the wind to push us in. We tied up to the helpfully placed cleats, unclipped our fenders from the LinQ System brackets on the rail to protect the Manitou in the lumpy, rolling water, and waited for the red light to turn green.

My daughter shouted and pointed. I caught the slap-slap of two tails as a pair of manatees rolled and disappeared beneath the surface, and then my husband called, “It’s opening!”

I turned back to see the lock’s west gate slowly open. A rush of water spilled through, to the dismay of a duck who immediately and unsuccessfully tried to swim upstream. (He was in no danger, as the normal maximum difference in water levels is just 3 to 4 feet.)

When the gate stopped moving, the light turned green. We motored slowly into the boxlike lock and tied up again to the fender system. After another wait-for-the-light exercise and a wave from the lock operator, we motored through the east gate to enter Port Canaveral.

It was like cruising into a different world. The water was different, turquoise rather than dark; almost immediately, three dolphins surfaced next to the Manitou with a whoosh. Then I looked up.

Exploring Port Canaveral

To port, in the West Basin, I could see Royal Caribbean’s Mariner of the Seas and the Disney Wish. Farther down, between the Middle and East basins, I could see Royal Caribbean’s Independence of the Seas and Carnival’s Liberty. In between were the U.S. Naval Ship Waters, SpaceX operations, fishing charter outfits, marinas, boat repair and storage yards, and so much more.

This past spring, the Florida Ports Council announced that Port Canaveral is now the world’s busiest cruise port, with more than 4 million multi-day passengers setting sail in 2022. As it turns out, it’s also a thriving working port for a variety of other interests.

That means if you love boats, you’ll love being here.

All four cruise ships were scheduled to depart that afternoon, but at this hour of the morning, they sat quietly awaiting their scheduled passenger embarkation times. We cruised slowly past each behemoth, marveling at its sheer size. Many hundreds of balconies marched skyward. Windows and portholes gleamed, empty deck chairs lined the railings, and sky-scraping waterslides and movie screens promised happy days ahead. It was as if a collection of all-inclusive resorts had jumped into the water and decided to float.

Past the West Basin to port, we spotted the SpaceX logo on two workboats, the charmingly named Shannon and Doug. Shannon is a Dragon recovery ship, while Doug is used to retrieve reusable assets such as rocket boosters. In fact, we even spotted a recovered booster in the work yard near the boats.

As a Gen-Xer who watched the first space shuttle launch as a child, I felt a surge of excitement. This is where the magic happens, right here on Florida’s Space Coast. This is where a rocket can actually return to Earth, where X marks the spot.

It was hard to tear ourselves away from the hustle and bustle of port activity, but stomachs growled, and waterfront eateries beckoned. We pulled into Grills Seafood Deck and Tiki Bar for a hearty lunch amid a merrymaking crowd.

Unexpected treasures

I’m not quite sure exactly when the weather turned. When we placed our orders, I could gaze across the sunny docks to see a sky dotted with puffy, white clouds. However, the sun had vanished by the time we paid the bill, and the wind howled.

The original plan was to make a run for the lock and make it back to the Kelly Park East ramp before all hell broke loose. That clearly wasn’t going to happen, so we quickly put together our Plan B.

As it turned out, landing at the ramp adjacent to Jetty Park couldn’t have happened at a better time. By now it was afternoon, and for two of the four cruise ships in port, it was go time.

Liberty pushed back first, followed by Independence of the Seas. The sideways downpour eased to a lighter rainfall, and the lightning danger had passed, so we walked to the water’s edge to see them off.

Music floated toward us from the top decks, where the formerly dark movie screens now proudly announced “Sail Away!” Despite the weather, crowds lined the railings, beaming and waving.

A shadow pulled my attention away. A manatee slowly glided into view, making a wide, lazy turn from the main channel into our little basin. He slid into the shadow of the dock.

As I scanned the water searching for him, I got a different surprise: Two green sea turtles, in no particular hurry, hovering in the shallows. Maybe our old companion brought a friend to see us.

I looked up to see the receding stern of Independence of the Seas. Perhaps the passengers were heading belowdecks to organize their warm, cozy staterooms, preparing for their first meal at sea and anticipating the ports of call to come.

Yet I didn’t feel envious. As thousands of them looked forward, I felt privileged to be immersed in this one place.

For so many, Port Canaveral is a jumping-off point. For us, it was a destination, one that gave us a more intimate experience than passing-through travelers will ever have.