The Trip Home

CROSSINGS

Since I last posted, we have completed two crossings--a 40 mile crossing between island chains and the final 50 mile crossing from the tiny cays at the western edge of the Bahamas back to Florida. (Remember--our sailboat only goes an average of 5 mph on a good day). Here are some thoughts about our crossings.

You know it's a rough crossing when

...you feel like you're on a see-saw, operated by an unseen demon who pushes you up and down, back and forth. Then for fun, you are pitched sideways right and left. HOLD ON! This repeats every 60 seconds or so--for 10 hours. To make it extra fun--this happened in the middle of the night.

...the captain puts on a life vest and hooks himself to the life lines just to tuck the main sail back into its cover.

...items seem to JUMP off of shelves and crash on the floor

...the Captain stays up 24+ hours because it's too rough to trust the first mate with the helm

...the Mr Coffee slides across the counter and dumps the fresh pot of coffee into the sink. NO!!!

We ended our trip with some time in the Abaco Islands, starting in Little Harbour. There are luxury beach homes along the coast. We wondered what was at the end of this pathway.

Little Harbour is the home of a foundry and a sculpture gallery of a family of artists who have been here for 60 years. One of the sons operates a popular restaurant called Pete's Pub--where we enjoyed time with friends we met along the way.

Full Moon Party at Pete's Pub with Keith, Lori and Russ.

After several days in Little Harbor, we moved to Hope Town--a lovely village full of shops, rental cottages, and restaurants. It's known for its candy stripe light house that is still operational.

Mardi Gras (foreground) on a mooring ball in Hope Town Harbor

We're back in our marina in Stuart, Florida--packing up the boat, doing laundry, cleaning out the fridge. On our way back to MO, we will stop in Brunswick GA to choose our next marina. We like to explore the coasts. This is my last blog entry for this three month trip, so here are some final thoughts.

Tiny Beautiful Things (title borrowed from the book by Cheryl Strayed):

...a little girl in a laundromat who sat next to me and played games on my iPad. She was most interested in SNOW--what does it feel like? How do you play with it? I showed her pictures of a 10" snowfall at home. She told me about fishing for snapper and grouper right off of the docks and she warned me to never swim at night--because you can't see the SHARKS!

...listening to Norah Jones while eating dinner at sunset with friends.

...turning into a cove and finding an unexpected inland lake with deep water holes that are apple green.

...searching for and finding sea glass on rocky shores

...dolphins in our wake and transparent water over wavy white sand

...the Milky Way threading its way through the constellations

..watching the moon set into a bank of clouds, turning a persimmon orange as it descends to the horizon

...the star Altair--rising and casting a silver beam on the water

..watching sea turtles feeding on grass in the harbor or swimming ahead of me in the reef.

Goodbye until our next trip....

Spanish Wells, Eluethra, Bahamas

Spanish Wells has been our port for the last 6 days--a few days longer than expected due to weather concerns and an unexpected repair. This is a bustling fishing village and tourist haven. A large majority of the lobster, fish, and crabs for the entire Exuma chain of islands are captured in the local waters.

In fact, we met a young (age 24) ship captain named Tommy whose boat and crew were featured in a new cable show called 'Lobster Pirates'. He was whizzing around town in a new Mustang convertible--sporting a gold chain and telling everyone about his upcoming debut on the show. Lobster are caught here with the use of lobster 'condos'--raised wooden planks that are placed on the ocean floor attracting lobsters with a false sense of security. Tommy said he had 20,000 such condos in the waters around here and yes--pirating is a problem due to weak laws. We watched a boat like Tommy's unload hundreds (thousands?) of lobsters last week--the season is in full swing for 3 more weeks...

The beauty of the islands is an important part of our journey here--but so are the people we meet. We enjoyed dinner with friends at a new local restaurant--outdoor dining overlooking the water.

We also enjoyed hosting 6 fellow boaters for a 'storm party'--featuring Chef Barry's world-famous gumbo!

 Russ and Lori; Bob

Annie and Tom; John; Linda

During our stay, we visited the local history museum--learning that the island was settled by religious pilgrims from England--who shipwrecked as they approached the island, leaving them with nothing to start their new life. As we walked the island we found women selling homemade conch salad and sweets, explored a few local shops, did some provisioning (at a decent price), and enjoyed the snack shacks. There are many rental cottages available, along with golf cart rentals. Busy, happy place! After 5 nights on a mooring ball, we anchored off of Royal Island for our last evening in Spanish Wells.

 Tom and Annie joined us for some snorkeling at Royal Island

 Sunset over Royal Island

Ahhhh....paradise. Until you suffer an unexpected engine failure in the wee hours as you are underway to your next location. That happened to us this morning--as we were heading to the Abaco islands, our last stop on our trip. We were up at 3 a.m. and were through the cut to the ocean by 4:30 a.m. when we both heard a pause in the engine. "Did you hear that?? A Diesel engine can't pause like that because....."(here comes the dialogue during which my eyes glaze over). But--he was right, because a few minutes later the engine DIED. This is NOT GOOD. It is pitch black, we are in the ocean, and for some reason the battery charger is acting like it's possessed. Luckily, we aren't too far out and the wind picked up a bit, so Barry put out the sails and we headed back into Spanish Wells--hoping to make it into a marina there. (We are in a sailboat, but we RELY on the engine to maneuver in tight spaces like marinas. Let's be honest--we motor sail more than anything....)
 My eyes leaked a little, but I tried to not let Barry see. I had already been told to 'keep a stiff upper lip'. (In his defense, I think that may have been said to me after I told him I wanted to go home.) At this point, we are 6 miles out and the wind is light. Barry does not get rattled--instead he decides to 'tow' the sailboat in using our dinghy--did you know you could do that?!? He secured it to the port stern and turned on the outboard and let it run independently. It pushed us for several miles and into the approach to the marina, where I took over the helm and Barry jumped into the dinghy in case we needed to back up or slow down. On the hand-held radio, Barry warned other boats that we were being 'towed' in--trying to keep the entrance to the marina clear. (After all--I was at the helm. WATCH OUT) But we were a TEAM--the lines were ready for the dock hand and I followed Barry's instructions perfectly as we made a soft landing in the marina slip. 

The ghost at the controls

Update: Luckily, our engine problems were not catastrophic (i.e. expensive). Barry worked ALL day to fix the problems which were caused by a broken bolt on the transmission--the head of the bolt caused the engine to lock up. He took everything apart, replaced the bolts, changed a belt, and serviced the generator. He is exhausted!!

Barryism for the week:

"When you're living an adventurous life, sometimes you get more adventure than you counted on" :)

Heading North

On our last day in Georgetown, we happened to anchor right next to the regatta course--so we had front row seats for the first race! Barry put up our Mardi Gras flag and some regatta flags. We looked so festive as we sat on deck watching the boats fly by.

Lee Stocking Island, Feb. 24-25
Only 20 miles from Georgetown, and yet a world apart is Lee Stocking Island--home to a deserted marine laboratory. 

This first day, the water is rough, so we're boat bound--but the stars put on a show for us that night. We sit on the bow of the boat and gaze up at diamond dust splashed across the night sky. I never tire of this.

The next day is calm, and we start the day hiking up a trail that ends with a dramatic view of the ocean. 

We snorkel in the adjacent cove on a couple of coral 
heads that are right off of the beach. Look at this beach!

The coral heads reminded me of Seussian villages with very colorful residents! 
Next, we dinghied to a cove on the south side of the island rumored to have excellent snorkeling. I jumped in the water immediately and swam towards some dark shapes on one side of the cove. Pretty disappointing....but wait! Barry has walked the beach in the opposite direction and using the GPS on his iPhone has located a large coral reef just off of the beach. As I swam towards it, I literally gasped into my snorkel. It was probably 50 yds across, resembling a rambling shanty-town of overgrown mold painted yellow, rust, and orange with purple fan coral for a splash of color. On one edge, there was a steep drop off where I saw a young sea turtle move off into the deep. I swam and floated over and around this aquatic city, spying on fish painted magenta, tangerine, gold, royal blue, lime-green, sapphron yellow, and aqua. 
(I started to think about adding other snorkeling sites to my bucket list, like the Great Barrier Reef. Hmmm...this could get expensive)
After a morning of snorkeling, swimming, fighting currents and chasing turtles--I am reminded that I'm in my upper 50's. I have that worn out feeling I remember from childhood after playing in a pool all afternoon. No more snorkeling today!

The One That Got Away...and the One That Didn't
During our trek north from Lee Stocking to Black Point, Barry put out a fishing line while we were sailing in 2000+ feet of water, using a lure that looked like a crow's feather. Whizzz--something takes the bait!! And it's a fighter--keeping Barry occupied for a good 20 minutes as it dives down or takes the line further out. We catch glimpses of it--and know it's BIG! Use your imagination.

As it jumps, we see that it's a good 36" long. No fish story. When the fish is finally within a few feet of the boat, Barry grabs the gaff (a short, curved pole with a hook on the end used to lift fish into the boat). The fish is aqua and pale green and yellow with a flat face--a  mahi mahi!!  But--OH NO--the fish shakes the line, which snaps, and off he goes--taking the $10 lure with him. Stunned silence. There went some excellent seafood that we could have traded for laundry costs, for lobster, for....NOTHING. Oh well--it was too pretty to eat.

That night, while at anchor, we had a different kind of excitement. (If you're not a cat lover, skip this part.) Right after I fell asleep, I was awakened by a scramble and a splash. I leapt out of bed, screaming for Pearl...waking up Barry. I could hear a muffled,garbled yowl from outside the boat. I dashed up on deck...no Pearl... but when I yelled her name she responded with that helpless yowl, followed by gurgling noises. Barry had the flashlight, but he couldn't hear me when I said "Give me the flashlight! Give me the flashlight! GIVE ME THE FLASHLIGHT!" I found her at the waterline of the boat on the starboard stern, well out of reach. As she was being swept forward by the current, I watched her disappear under the bow and believed she was gone forever. But amazingly, she resurfaced on the other side of the boat and was being swept back towards the stern--where Barry (my hero) was waiting in the dinghy. He grabbed her by the ruff as she floated by, and placed her right on top of his glasses. Crunch. So, this escapade caused (we think) by a cute moth fluttering at a porthole (you know about curiosity and cats) will now cost us a new pair of glasses. But Pearl, (aka Saltwater Pearl) is alive and well. I kill every moth I see and all port holes are closed at night--just waiting for the next adventure...

Cambridge Cay, Feb. 26-27
As we travel north through the incredible beauty of the Exumas, we're trying to experience different places so we anchored in Cambridge Cay--part of the Land and Sea Park. The 'mooring hosts' welcomed us by radio and told us there was a happy hour at 5pm on a nearby beach. Who knew--mooring hosts?? Evidently the Park does this in order to ensure that boaters pay the mooring ball fee and to make our stay more enjoyable. So about a dozen of us met on the beach and chatted about our experiences while watching yet another spectacular sunset. 

 Fellow boaters included a couple on their honeymoon, a family of four taking a one-year sailing sabbatical, and three friends from the UK on a Caribbean journey. So many stories and such 'local knowledge'. The hostess told me of a trail to walk that was right off of a deep water hole in which sea turtles (!) swim. So, of course, that was our first thing on the agenda the next day. (Agenda, what agenda??) We swam and snorkeled in that hole...no turtles. But while sitting on the beach later, I happened to see a turtle come up for air! I jumped out of my chair, ran toward the water, dashed back for my mask, and plunged in. I could see the turtle about 50 feet in front of me--sadly, I quickly learned that I am MUCH slower than a turtle.

Rocky Dundas
Last year, we visited this marvelous coral outcropping, and we couldn't resist visiting again. 

Believe it or not, you can take a dinghy under the ledge and into caves! 

As I snorkeled in here, I was treated to seeing some gorgeous coral and some curious parrot fish. And as you can see in the picture, the sunlight pouring in through the hole in the 'ceiling' created a scene that resembled the inside of an ogre's mouth!

SQUALL!

This is what a squall looks like...luckily we were firmly anchored in this mooring field. The wind registered 40 knots (50 mph) for a few minutes. Thankfully--it was over quickly and no one suffered any damage.

Happy belated Mardi Gras!! As our friends in St. Louis know, our boat is named Mardi Gras because we used to host a dinner/costume party on the Saturday before Fat Tuesday--but now we celebrate somewhere in the islands with new friends. This year, we were moored in an isolated cay in the Park and our only neighbors (Robbie and Carol) joined us who for some improvised gumbo--homemade by Chef Barry.

Goodbye for now...I'll be in touch in a week or so.