Now that we have Live Now safely ensconced in her Brunswick slip, we plan to hang out in the Dayton area for awhile. Periodically we will be checking on the boat, doing upgrades, etc and as the weather turns cold spend more time in Georgia.
After the storm season passes we intend to head back to Georgetown, Bahamas then follow the "Thorny Path" into the Caribbean.
With this down time, John plans to work on his budding career as an animator. Check out his first effort.
Click above for video.
'Fay' Accompli
Sitting in the airport in Houston while en route to Alaska, we watched with dismay as the CNN weather reporter described the development of Tropical Storm Fay just off Hispaniola. Repairs and the reworking of repairs to the transmission, coupled with bad weather, had forced us to leave Live Now moored in Fernandina Harbor while we traveled. Fernandina Harbor, Amelia Island, is on the Intra-coastal Waterway, 35 NM south of Brunswick where we had reserved a slip and had hoped to leave the boat. While still far to the south, the National Hurricane Center predicted that Fay may develop into a hurricane and turn northwest, putting central and northeast Florida at risk. And here we were, on our way to Alaska for our family 10 day vacation. We weren't worried, given the arbitrary and capricious nature of tropical storms, there was no way to know where it would end up and there was nothing we could do about it anyway. So, why worry? We weren't worried, really, but a little tight knot in the pit of my stomach began to grow; reminiscent of the feeling you get entering the classroom before a big test for which you're not sure you've adequately prepared. So, Pat and I told each other, repeatedly, that there was nothing to worry about. At least,not yet anyway.
Two days before, Tuesday, August 12, we had left St. Augustine (for the 3rd time) and headed north along the coast. The day was clear, the wind light and we ghosted along at 3 or 4 knots. Forecasted afternoon thunderstorms with cloud to surface lightening caused us to change our planned coastal cruise to St. Mary's and enter the St. John's River instead, heading up the protected Intra-Coastal Waterway. It was pleasant enough and the stormy weather failed to materialize. We were anxious to reach Brunswick as soon as possible to secure the boat in our slip in preparation for our trip to Alaska. Whatever time cushion we had had evaporated completely by the delayed repair work. We were scheduled to fly out of Dayton, OH, that Friday. Since we were driving from Brunswick to Ohio, we had to leave not later than Thursday morning. We picked up a mooring opposite the Fernandina Harbor Marina late in the afternoon.
The forecast for Wednesday called for severe thunderstorms and gale force winds. Rather than risk at best an uncomfortable sail up the coast or wait for a favorable tide and try to make it up the badly shoaled ICW, we elected to leave Live Now on the mooring in Fernandina Harbor. We battened the hatches, closed the seacocks, added our heaviest lines to the mooring and headed off for our Alaskan family adventure. At this point, Fay wasn't even a glimmer in the weatherforecaster's eye.
With spotty access to weather and news as we traveled the wilds of Alaska, we caught only glimpses of Fay's development as she turned northwest and headed straight for a predicted landfall near Jacksonville, just south of Amelia Island. This put Live Now in the NE quadrant of the storm, the worst possible location. Had we deliberately tried to place her to bear the brunt of the storm we couldn't have done a better job.
Tropical Storm Fay
To our telephone calls (remarkably, we were able to get through) about our boat, Kevin, dockmaster, responded with a reassuring, "Well, she's still out there bobbin' around. 'Course, we haven't seen the worst of it yet. I got three boats that broke loose and are in the marsh, but you look okay." We didn't get back to Fernandina Harbor until Thursday, August 28, but were delighted to find Live Now dry and undamaged. One of the mooring lines had frayed a bit, but she survived unscathed. Inside, the boat was a shambles but undamaged: littered with anything that hadn't been secured. It was as if we had gone to sea in rough weather. Nothing, however, was broken. Kevin said that they had seen 90 mph gusts at the height of the storm. A boat was lost off the coast and several people died from falling trees or debris. Two of the boats that had broken loose were still in the marsh; a sad reminder of what can happen.
Sunday, August 31, we started north to Brunswick, 2 months later than planned. We had 15 to 18 knot winds out of the NE, contrary to the forecasted 5-10 south winds. Shortly after noon, the Coast Guard alerted boaters that severe thunderstorms with gale force winds were forecast later in the day. All boaters were to seek shelter immediately! With several hours yet to sail (we were making slow progress with a .7 knot opposing current and head winds), we decided to lower our sails and motor the rest of the way. St. Simon's Inlet was the closest safe harbor and fortunately the entry to Brunswick. A ruler neat line of dark thunderstorms rose ominously just south of us, moving quickly in our direction. Clearly, it was going to be a close thing.
We entered St. Simon's inlet and Oglethorpe Bay still ahead of the storm but just barely. We still had 3 NM to go and it became apparent that as we had to turn SW to reach the marina in Brunswick, we would intercept the storm. Still, the sky was clear overhead. The squall line stopped just to our south. Now in the waterway, we slowed Live Now to just making headway and waited. The storm moved rapidly NW over the low lying outer banks and marshes, enveloping the Sidney Lanier Bridge momentarily as we slowly approached. Hardly a drop of rain fell on us and the wind almost died altogether. In overcast skies we found our way to the Brunswick Landing Marina, met our new neighbors, Roger, Darleen and their two Jack Russell terriers, Molly & Breeze.
Brunswick, founded in 1791, and laid out in the classic Oglethorpe grid style has a several wonderful restaurants, a great coffee house, West Marine and a couple bookstores. Once known as the "Shrimp Capital of the World" (although everyone I saw seemed of normal stature), it also boasts the Glynn County Jail, located just across the street from the marina; making it convenient for boaters visiting incarcerated relatives and friends.
Two days before, Tuesday, August 12, we had left St. Augustine (for the 3rd time) and headed north along the coast. The day was clear, the wind light and we ghosted along at 3 or 4 knots. Forecasted afternoon thunderstorms with cloud to surface lightening caused us to change our planned coastal cruise to St. Mary's and enter the St. John's River instead, heading up the protected Intra-Coastal Waterway. It was pleasant enough and the stormy weather failed to materialize. We were anxious to reach Brunswick as soon as possible to secure the boat in our slip in preparation for our trip to Alaska. Whatever time cushion we had had evaporated completely by the delayed repair work. We were scheduled to fly out of Dayton, OH, that Friday. Since we were driving from Brunswick to Ohio, we had to leave not later than Thursday morning. We picked up a mooring opposite the Fernandina Harbor Marina late in the afternoon.
The forecast for Wednesday called for severe thunderstorms and gale force winds. Rather than risk at best an uncomfortable sail up the coast or wait for a favorable tide and try to make it up the badly shoaled ICW, we elected to leave Live Now on the mooring in Fernandina Harbor. We battened the hatches, closed the seacocks, added our heaviest lines to the mooring and headed off for our Alaskan family adventure. At this point, Fay wasn't even a glimmer in the weatherforecaster's eye.
With spotty access to weather and news as we traveled the wilds of Alaska, we caught only glimpses of Fay's development as she turned northwest and headed straight for a predicted landfall near Jacksonville, just south of Amelia Island. This put Live Now in the NE quadrant of the storm, the worst possible location. Had we deliberately tried to place her to bear the brunt of the storm we couldn't have done a better job.
Tropical Storm Fay
To our telephone calls (remarkably, we were able to get through) about our boat, Kevin, dockmaster, responded with a reassuring, "Well, she's still out there bobbin' around. 'Course, we haven't seen the worst of it yet. I got three boats that broke loose and are in the marsh, but you look okay." We didn't get back to Fernandina Harbor until Thursday, August 28, but were delighted to find Live Now dry and undamaged. One of the mooring lines had frayed a bit, but she survived unscathed. Inside, the boat was a shambles but undamaged: littered with anything that hadn't been secured. It was as if we had gone to sea in rough weather. Nothing, however, was broken. Kevin said that they had seen 90 mph gusts at the height of the storm. A boat was lost off the coast and several people died from falling trees or debris. Two of the boats that had broken loose were still in the marsh; a sad reminder of what can happen.
Sunday, August 31, we started north to Brunswick, 2 months later than planned. We had 15 to 18 knot winds out of the NE, contrary to the forecasted 5-10 south winds. Shortly after noon, the Coast Guard alerted boaters that severe thunderstorms with gale force winds were forecast later in the day. All boaters were to seek shelter immediately! With several hours yet to sail (we were making slow progress with a .7 knot opposing current and head winds), we decided to lower our sails and motor the rest of the way. St. Simon's Inlet was the closest safe harbor and fortunately the entry to Brunswick. A ruler neat line of dark thunderstorms rose ominously just south of us, moving quickly in our direction. Clearly, it was going to be a close thing.
We entered St. Simon's inlet and Oglethorpe Bay still ahead of the storm but just barely. We still had 3 NM to go and it became apparent that as we had to turn SW to reach the marina in Brunswick, we would intercept the storm. Still, the sky was clear overhead. The squall line stopped just to our south. Now in the waterway, we slowed Live Now to just making headway and waited. The storm moved rapidly NW over the low lying outer banks and marshes, enveloping the Sidney Lanier Bridge momentarily as we slowly approached. Hardly a drop of rain fell on us and the wind almost died altogether. In overcast skies we found our way to the Brunswick Landing Marina, met our new neighbors, Roger, Darleen and their two Jack Russell terriers, Molly & Breeze.
Brunswick, founded in 1791, and laid out in the classic Oglethorpe grid style has a several wonderful restaurants, a great coffee house, West Marine and a couple bookstores. Once known as the "Shrimp Capital of the World" (although everyone I saw seemed of normal stature), it also boasts the Glynn County Jail, located just across the street from the marina; making it convenient for boaters visiting incarcerated relatives and friends.
Boats Aground After Tropical Storm Fay
Three sailboats near us broke their mooring lines and washed up in the marsh in Fernandina Harbor
Orca
We spotted 4 Orca shortly after we entered Prince William Sound. The Orca were feeding on silver salmon.
Aska About Alaska!
Hey everyone! We just got back from our awesome "Christmas in August" trip to the 49th state of Alaska. Among the brave explorers were John and Pat Hambrick, their son Brad, Brian, with his wife Liz, their daughter Kris and her husband Sean, and Sean's parents Mike and Kathryn. We all touched down in Anchorage, and stayed the first three nights at the "Aawsome Retreat", a very stylish house full of interesting and unusual decorations, and situated on a hill giving an incredible view of Anchorage. The moose were everywhere! We toured the coastline, and chartered a small boat in Whittier to take us around Prince William Sound. I think the two boat captains were just as amazed at the sights as we were! together we saw a bird rookery, and colony of sea lions (man they were noisy), and got right up next to a glacier. The next day, we took the Alaska Railway up to Denali, where the weather couldn't have been better (up into the upper 60's at one point), and the views of Mt. Mckinley couldn't have been clearer. Nearly every turn of the tour bus through the park brought sight of grizzly bear, caribou or Dahl's sheep. All in all, a very successful expedition into the wild!
(Submitted by Brad)
P.S. Even though John and Pat flew from Alaska to Dayton just days before McCain announced , in Dayton, his selection of Alaska's governor, Sarah Palin, as his VP running mate, they did not consult with, advise or play any role in that decision.
(Submitted by Brad)
P.S. Even though John and Pat flew from Alaska to Dayton just days before McCain announced , in Dayton, his selection of Alaska's governor, Sarah Palin, as his VP running mate, they did not consult with, advise or play any role in that decision.
St. Augustine 3.0
Well, once again, we are back at the marina in St. Augustine for further repairs. There is an old joke among boaters: "B O A T = Bring On Another Thousand". Right now ~~ not too funny! But accurate. We left here with the engine and transmission humming along, the generator running, keeping our refrigeration working (translation: the beer cold). John was so happy~~thinking he didn't have to worry about anything in the engine room for awhile and could go on to other projects (we have enough other projects to keep him busy for years). We were headed eventually to Brunswick, Georgia, where we have rented a slip for the summer. We needed to just get north of the Florida state line for insurance purposes, and found a slip in Brunswick that would not break the bank. We had heard that Brunswick was a very nice little town, and is near St. Simon's Island and Jekyll Island. We are still looking forward to being there.
We left St. Augustine on Saturday, July 5, after an evening of spectacular fireworks in the St. Augustine harbor. They had finished our work on the boat (the first time) on July 3 and we decided to stay for the fireworks. We left the marina and anchored in 14 feet of water on the Anastasia Island side of the river just north of the Bridge of the Lions and near where the fireworks barge was moored. We had a ring-side seat. When we first anchored, we were completely alone, all the other boats having anchored on the city side, the traditional anchorage. However, as evening approached, so did a flotilla of spectator boats. Close quarter anchoring in a 4 knot current presents challenges, even for the sober. So, we quickly moved from 'relaxed waiting mode' to 'alert watching mode' as boat after boat dropped and dragged their anchors all around. I could imagine fish dodging anchors like incoming artillery shells. Boats that anchored 30 feet in front of us ended up 30 feet behind. We quietly deployed our fenders and had brief conversations with other boaters as they slowly drifted pass.
Finally, everyone was set and as dusk fell fireworks opened up all around. We counted eleven places where they were setting off fireworks. Then, at 9:30, they did the big show and we were right underneath them. It was like being in a theatre with 3-D glasses on. Just great!
The next morning we headed out the inlet and in calm winds, motored north toward the St. Marys Inlet in Georgia. Late in the morning, we spotted something floating in the water and moved closer to investigate. It turned out to be a bunch of mylar party balloons. John fished them out with the boat hook only to see another bunch soon after which we also retrieved. These balloons reek havoc on fish and turtles who ingest them (after they deflate, I hope) and end up dying as a result.
Having done our good deed, of course, we were soon punished. Sometimes I think that we all act within a kind of moral climate with good and evil weather gradients and patterns. When good is done it creates something like a low pressure area of goodness that causes the winds of Fate to blow bad from an adjoining high pressure area of badness to achieve some form of balance. You have to do little good deeds as you go along or the good and evil pressure variant will get so great that you have the equivalent of a moral hurricane. On the other hand, it may be that I've been out in the sun too much.
Anyway, as we began heading up the St. Mary's River to our planned anchorage, the wind picked up to over 20 knots. Then we started hearing ominous noises from the transmission. Before John could investigate, however, our depth meter sounded the shallow water alarm! We were well within the channel but the depth quickly went from 8' under the keel to 5 to 3 to 2 to "I think we're stuck!" The wind now gusting to 25 began blowing us closer to shore and the shallow water as John tried to back us out. No luck. The transmission was slipping and we had no reverse. About then, a pretty little canal boat that had been following us (probably thinking that we knew what we were doing) approached between us and the shore. He ignored John's attempts to get his attention to both our plight and his impending grounding. The captain of the canal boat motored right past without a glance at us and promptly ran aground! That's when John noticed the steam coming out of our engine room! A quick check of the temperature gauge showed that we weren't overheating, but even I realized that this wasn't a good thing. John bolted to the engine room to find jets of water shooting out of the hose to the engine raw water pump. The steam was from water hitting the hot engine. We shut the engine down. The water leak was from a hose clamp that had been installed by the boat yard when they had replaced the raw water pump the day before. John attempted to tighten it. A quarter turn of the screw found the clamp resting in John's hand. It had broken completely off! While John installed a new clamp and added transmission fluid (the forward seal was leaking as badly as ever), Live Now was being pushed further into shallower water. Within 10 minutes, however, the engine is running and we have both forward and reverse. Still, we're stuck and the tide is about to ebb. John then raised the fores'l, the boat heeled (reducing the draft), twisted to port and ever so slowly began to move. Twenty minutes later we're anchored opposite the town of St. Mary's.
At least we thought we would have cold food, since the boat yard had repaired that just before we left ~ but, alas, apparently our good deed had not been sufficiently punished and the generator quit working. In case you think these things are just the province of older boats like ours (she is an '81), I will tell you that we have met people with boats old and new, and it is always the same story. May as well have an older boat, it's all the same. Like old people comparing medical ailments and bowel movements, cruisers talk endlessly about boat repairs (Sometimes little things like, "I'm just not getting the flow I need out of my bilge pump." Or, "Tell me about it. I don't know what to do about this stuck seacock." To more serious "Have you ever had to deal with a delamination issue?").
There is nothing in the the way of support services in St. Mary's, Georgia. Very cute little town with a couple of restaurants and some beautiful streets with well-kept houses, but no store, no gas station, no ATM and no repair facility. You can get ice and beer. A call to the Camachee Cove Boat Yard in St. Augustine confirmed that they would stand behind their work (It might have more appropriate if they would 'swim alongside' instead of 'stand behind' their work!). They offered to send a man up to St. Marys. However, there wouldn't be much he could do. The transmission would have to be pulled again. That meant returning the boat to St. Augustine. To do that we needed transmission fluid. With no supply store in town, we walked 4-mile round trips to the gas station outside of town to carry as much transmission fluid as we could for the return trip to St. Augustine. I'll tell you, I have never sweat so much in my life. Hopefully, this is a weight-loss regime that will bear results.
We spent the rest of the weekend in the St. Mary's area, and since it was on the way back to St. Augustine, we motored over to Cumberland Island for Sunday afternoon. If you haven't been there, what a beautiful place. Cumberland Island is a National Seashore and Park, one of the few remaining undeveloped outer bank islands. It had once been the home of Thomas Carnegie, brother of Andrew. The Carnegies built Dungeness Mansion on the site where General Nathaniel Greene had once lived. As you may know, General Greene commanded the southern army under George Washington during the American War for Independence. In gratitude for his service, the state of Georgia gave land on Cumberland Island to General Greene. Nathaniel Greene was from Rhode Island, and we know a descendant of Nathaniel's brother and have been to his old house, sat in Nathaniel's chair, held George Washington's sword and his rifle that he used to train recruits, etc. (but that's another story). Nathaniel Greene had used his own money during the Revolution to feed and supply his troops with the idea that he would be reimbursed. Never happened. He forgot to get receipts or something. That left him bankrupt. If it hadn't been for the appreciation shown him by the state of Georgia, he wouldn't have had anything. As it was, he died broke, two years after receiving his land grant. His wife, Catherine, bravely carried on, but her second husband also died, leaving her destitute, and then the house burned down. No justice! See what I mean about the good/bad pressure varient? Long after that, the Carnegie family bought most of the island and created several amazing mansions for their extended family, one of which stood on the ashes of the Green estate. This also burned, not quite to the ground. By the 1970s, with most of the seacoast and islands being developed, those living on Cumberland, including the Carnegies, donated their holdings to create the National Seashore and National Park. It is well worth the time to visit. We saw wild horses, turkey, armadillo, and deer who just weren't afraid of us.
The next morning, we began our trip down the Intracoastal Waterway back to St. Augustine for further repairs. There was no wind, so we had to motor (adding that trusty transmission fluid every couple of hours). They took us back in at the boatyard the following morning and we began the whole process all over again. This time, we sent the transmission up to Jacksonville to have it checked out, so we are sure we are doing everything necessary. As it turns out, the bearings are shot and have to be replaced. The worn bearing allowed the shaft to move, breaking the seal and leaking. Now, why didn't we learn this the first time?
We left St. Augustine on Saturday, July 5, after an evening of spectacular fireworks in the St. Augustine harbor. They had finished our work on the boat (the first time) on July 3 and we decided to stay for the fireworks. We left the marina and anchored in 14 feet of water on the Anastasia Island side of the river just north of the Bridge of the Lions and near where the fireworks barge was moored. We had a ring-side seat. When we first anchored, we were completely alone, all the other boats having anchored on the city side, the traditional anchorage. However, as evening approached, so did a flotilla of spectator boats. Close quarter anchoring in a 4 knot current presents challenges, even for the sober. So, we quickly moved from 'relaxed waiting mode' to 'alert watching mode' as boat after boat dropped and dragged their anchors all around. I could imagine fish dodging anchors like incoming artillery shells. Boats that anchored 30 feet in front of us ended up 30 feet behind. We quietly deployed our fenders and had brief conversations with other boaters as they slowly drifted pass.
Finally, everyone was set and as dusk fell fireworks opened up all around. We counted eleven places where they were setting off fireworks. Then, at 9:30, they did the big show and we were right underneath them. It was like being in a theatre with 3-D glasses on. Just great!
The next morning we headed out the inlet and in calm winds, motored north toward the St. Marys Inlet in Georgia. Late in the morning, we spotted something floating in the water and moved closer to investigate. It turned out to be a bunch of mylar party balloons. John fished them out with the boat hook only to see another bunch soon after which we also retrieved. These balloons reek havoc on fish and turtles who ingest them (after they deflate, I hope) and end up dying as a result.
Having done our good deed, of course, we were soon punished. Sometimes I think that we all act within a kind of moral climate with good and evil weather gradients and patterns. When good is done it creates something like a low pressure area of goodness that causes the winds of Fate to blow bad from an adjoining high pressure area of badness to achieve some form of balance. You have to do little good deeds as you go along or the good and evil pressure variant will get so great that you have the equivalent of a moral hurricane. On the other hand, it may be that I've been out in the sun too much.
Anyway, as we began heading up the St. Mary's River to our planned anchorage, the wind picked up to over 20 knots. Then we started hearing ominous noises from the transmission. Before John could investigate, however, our depth meter sounded the shallow water alarm! We were well within the channel but the depth quickly went from 8' under the keel to 5 to 3 to 2 to "I think we're stuck!" The wind now gusting to 25 began blowing us closer to shore and the shallow water as John tried to back us out. No luck. The transmission was slipping and we had no reverse. About then, a pretty little canal boat that had been following us (probably thinking that we knew what we were doing) approached between us and the shore. He ignored John's attempts to get his attention to both our plight and his impending grounding. The captain of the canal boat motored right past without a glance at us and promptly ran aground! That's when John noticed the steam coming out of our engine room! A quick check of the temperature gauge showed that we weren't overheating, but even I realized that this wasn't a good thing. John bolted to the engine room to find jets of water shooting out of the hose to the engine raw water pump. The steam was from water hitting the hot engine. We shut the engine down. The water leak was from a hose clamp that had been installed by the boat yard when they had replaced the raw water pump the day before. John attempted to tighten it. A quarter turn of the screw found the clamp resting in John's hand. It had broken completely off! While John installed a new clamp and added transmission fluid (the forward seal was leaking as badly as ever), Live Now was being pushed further into shallower water. Within 10 minutes, however, the engine is running and we have both forward and reverse. Still, we're stuck and the tide is about to ebb. John then raised the fores'l, the boat heeled (reducing the draft), twisted to port and ever so slowly began to move. Twenty minutes later we're anchored opposite the town of St. Mary's.
At least we thought we would have cold food, since the boat yard had repaired that just before we left ~ but, alas, apparently our good deed had not been sufficiently punished and the generator quit working. In case you think these things are just the province of older boats like ours (she is an '81), I will tell you that we have met people with boats old and new, and it is always the same story. May as well have an older boat, it's all the same. Like old people comparing medical ailments and bowel movements, cruisers talk endlessly about boat repairs (Sometimes little things like, "I'm just not getting the flow I need out of my bilge pump." Or, "Tell me about it. I don't know what to do about this stuck seacock." To more serious "Have you ever had to deal with a delamination issue?").
There is nothing in the the way of support services in St. Mary's, Georgia. Very cute little town with a couple of restaurants and some beautiful streets with well-kept houses, but no store, no gas station, no ATM and no repair facility. You can get ice and beer. A call to the Camachee Cove Boat Yard in St. Augustine confirmed that they would stand behind their work (It might have more appropriate if they would 'swim alongside' instead of 'stand behind' their work!). They offered to send a man up to St. Marys. However, there wouldn't be much he could do. The transmission would have to be pulled again. That meant returning the boat to St. Augustine. To do that we needed transmission fluid. With no supply store in town, we walked 4-mile round trips to the gas station outside of town to carry as much transmission fluid as we could for the return trip to St. Augustine. I'll tell you, I have never sweat so much in my life. Hopefully, this is a weight-loss regime that will bear results.
We spent the rest of the weekend in the St. Mary's area, and since it was on the way back to St. Augustine, we motored over to Cumberland Island for Sunday afternoon. If you haven't been there, what a beautiful place. Cumberland Island is a National Seashore and Park, one of the few remaining undeveloped outer bank islands. It had once been the home of Thomas Carnegie, brother of Andrew. The Carnegies built Dungeness Mansion on the site where General Nathaniel Greene had once lived. As you may know, General Greene commanded the southern army under George Washington during the American War for Independence. In gratitude for his service, the state of Georgia gave land on Cumberland Island to General Greene. Nathaniel Greene was from Rhode Island, and we know a descendant of Nathaniel's brother and have been to his old house, sat in Nathaniel's chair, held George Washington's sword and his rifle that he used to train recruits, etc. (but that's another story). Nathaniel Greene had used his own money during the Revolution to feed and supply his troops with the idea that he would be reimbursed. Never happened. He forgot to get receipts or something. That left him bankrupt. If it hadn't been for the appreciation shown him by the state of Georgia, he wouldn't have had anything. As it was, he died broke, two years after receiving his land grant. His wife, Catherine, bravely carried on, but her second husband also died, leaving her destitute, and then the house burned down. No justice! See what I mean about the good/bad pressure varient? Long after that, the Carnegie family bought most of the island and created several amazing mansions for their extended family, one of which stood on the ashes of the Green estate. This also burned, not quite to the ground. By the 1970s, with most of the seacoast and islands being developed, those living on Cumberland, including the Carnegies, donated their holdings to create the National Seashore and National Park. It is well worth the time to visit. We saw wild horses, turkey, armadillo, and deer who just weren't afraid of us.
The next morning, we began our trip down the Intracoastal Waterway back to St. Augustine for further repairs. There was no wind, so we had to motor (adding that trusty transmission fluid every couple of hours). They took us back in at the boatyard the following morning and we began the whole process all over again. This time, we sent the transmission up to Jacksonville to have it checked out, so we are sure we are doing everything necessary. As it turns out, the bearings are shot and have to be replaced. The worn bearing allowed the shaft to move, breaking the seal and leaking. Now, why didn't we learn this the first time?
Manatee Camachee Cove Marina, St. Augustine
Several manatee frequented the marina where we stayed. Note the white scars from close encounters with boat props.
St. Augustine...Once Again
We have been in a boatyard in St. Augustine, now, for about a week, having the transmission worked on. They are just about done. The forward seal leaks allowing fluid into the bell housing. To replace it, the transmission has to be removed and the engine blocked up somehow. Very labor intensive (read expensive). Also, they don't make this transmission anymore so if it fails somewhere down the line or if we damaged it by running low on fluid, it may have to be trashed. A new transmission would require a modification to the shaft and other changes running the cost up to make a new engine seem a viable option. So, what to do? We decided to just replace the seal. There's been no indication that the transmission has been damaged and the engine has been very dependable. It doesn't use oil and has only 3700 hours on it (maybe 20,000 miles). The Boat Yard here at Cammache Island Marine, has impressed us with its competence and we're able to make use of the resort facilities at no cost until the work is completed.
As a result, we have been running errands, taking walks, checking out a museum, eating out, reading, doing maintenance, watching some tv (mostly the Wimbledon championships), and enjoying this great town. The marina has a couple of courtesy cars, so we can go shopping without having to just buy what we can carry. They also have a very nice lounge and a laundry. The best part about the marina, however, is the manatee which comes around periodically. When I first saw it, it took a minute to figure out what it was. So big! So slow! It was meandering along the dock I was walking on, and stopped to munch on some plant life there. When I reached down to pet it, I saw several scars from boat props along its back. I guess they have a hard time getting out of the way. There are also schools of mullet that jump clear of the water night and day. One of the yard workers assured us that they are jumping because they’re happy.
We plan to leave here just before the 4th of July weekend and head for a slip we have rented in Brunswick, Georgia, for the summer. We will hang out there, do some more work on the boat, and head up to Ohio to visit.
As a result, we have been running errands, taking walks, checking out a museum, eating out, reading, doing maintenance, watching some tv (mostly the Wimbledon championships), and enjoying this great town. The marina has a couple of courtesy cars, so we can go shopping without having to just buy what we can carry. They also have a very nice lounge and a laundry. The best part about the marina, however, is the manatee which comes around periodically. When I first saw it, it took a minute to figure out what it was. So big! So slow! It was meandering along the dock I was walking on, and stopped to munch on some plant life there. When I reached down to pet it, I saw several scars from boat props along its back. I guess they have a hard time getting out of the way. There are also schools of mullet that jump clear of the water night and day. One of the yard workers assured us that they are jumping because they’re happy.
We plan to leave here just before the 4th of July weekend and head for a slip we have rented in Brunswick, Georgia, for the summer. We will hang out there, do some more work on the boat, and head up to Ohio to visit.
Home Again
Our float plan called for us to depart George Town, pass through the Exumas, on to Nassau then west through the Northwest Channel; entering the US at Lake Worth, Fl, a total distance of about 300 nautical miles. Having successfully repaired the air leak in the fuel line to the main engine, we headed north out of George Town. The cruising guides describe the George Town inlet (Conch Cay Cut) as the “most dreaded” by cruisers. After reading the description in the guide, you may well doubt whether it’s worth the risk. Our experience, however, didn’t even come close to justifying those warnings. I am sure that in bad conditions, it could be tricky, but, as we have learned, if you can sail to the weather (wait for the right conditions) and not sail to your schedule, you can greatly mitigate your risk. Our departure came after waiting several days for the strong east winds to abate and shift south southeast and our exit was uneventful. Still, we did have a bit of a mechanical problem. Our transmission continued to leak fluid. This meant adding about one quart of transmission fluid every couple of hours of engine run time. Luckily, it was good sailing weather most of the time with light but favorable winds and we didn't need to motor often.
Saying a fond farewell to George Town, we threaded our way back through some of the places we had been before, stopping the first night at Little Farmer’s Cay and the second evening at Staniel Cay. We arrived at Staniel Cay early enough to get fuel, but the fuel docks were blocked by two mega yachts, so we anchored away from the island and waited until morning. At about 8:00 the next morning, coasting toward the fuel dock we checked to make sure the transmission was working and to our dismay we realized that we had no reverse gear even though it checked it out before when we weighed anchor 20 minutes before! Stopping 25 tons of boat without playing bumper cars with either the dock or other boats can be a little tricky. Fortunately, we had rehearsed such a possibility and using the incoming tide and an offshore breeze to slow us down and dock lines as a break, we docked with such apparent ease that our arrival went completely unnoticed. John wanted to shout, "Did you see that, see what we just did!!!" Instead, after quietly congratulating ourselves, we topped up the tanks with diesel at $5.65 a gallon and water at $.40 a gallon. I was surprised to have to pay for water in a place that is surrounded by the stuff (“water, water everywhere but nar' a drop to drink”), but in the 3 ½ months we have been here, it has probably rained for a grand total of ten minutes. Most of the potable water is desalinated through the reverse osmosis process making it very expensive. With about a 200 gallon capacity for both water and fuel, however, we only had to fill up twice during our entire Bahamas visit.
We pulled away from the fuel dock and rounded Big Major, an island just a mile north of Staniel, and anchored in a beautiful spot. With the transmission leak worsening and no chance of getting it repaired locally, John had dinghied back to Staniel Cay to buy more transmission fluid. As long as we maintained the fluid level, the transmission worked fine. However, there are few places to procure fluid in the Exumas, so we needed as much as we could find.
I stayed aboard to revel in a shower (with my $.40 a gallon water) and do some reading. I came back up on deck with my book to the sound of a single-engine airplane taking off from the small runway. I HOPE this was a beginner’s first lesson, because the pilot successfully cleared the runway, the small line of trees in front, but then took a nosedive right between the masts of the two sailboats beside us (about 20 feet off the water). Then the instructor (I assume) pulled the nose of the plane straight up, they eventually leveled out, and off they went. I watched them go back and forth for the next hour or so, ready to head down into the cabin if they came my way, and of course fearing for my masts. I am happy to report that the rest of the lesson went much better than the beginning.
We were anchored near a new resort by the name of Fowl Cay, which sounds much better than Chicken Cay, which is it’s old name. We had heard that it was beautiful and that it had a great restaurant, so we called in on the VHF radio and made reservations for that evening. I have to say that if you have money ($10,000 per week for the one-bedroom cottage) and want an exotic place to hang out, this would be it. We arrived for dinner with only two other parties, and were greeted by the manager, a young man with a great Aussie accent, and offered a drink while we strolled around the various outdoor verandas, enjoying the view. The restaurant sits on the highest point of the island and offers a 360* water view. Someone from the kitchen eventually came to get our order and we were seated about 20 minutes later in a dining room of a building that would make an absolutely fantastic house. The meal was the best we had had in the whole country, and the chef, whom they had ‘rescued’ from a 4-star resort near George Town, came out to see how we had enjoyed the meal. About this time, we are wondering if we are going to get out of there without having to mortgage the boat, and we just barely made it. There had been no menu, no prices, etc., and it ended up being a flat $100 each. John said he should have drunk more wine!!! Since my birthday was the next week, I thanked John for the best birthday meal ever, letting him know he was ‘off the hook’ for anything else.
The next morning, we left the anchorage and headed back up towards Norman’s Cay. It was an absolutely perfect 4 knot sail (that’s slow folks, about 4.5 mph), but that’s the way I like it. It stretches out the fun for me, the boat is perfectly straight up (so nothing down below is getting thrown around, including me), and it’s just so peaceful. Also, it is not scary. Anyway you cut it, I am still your garden variety chicken. When we stop for the evening, John continues to work on trying to locate the source of the leak in the transmission, but it remains elusive.
We arrived in Nassau just about sunset, anchored in the harbor there, and went ashore for dinner at the Green Parrot. The next morning, we dinghied into town, went to Starbucks, where we could use the WiFi and retrieve our email. We had a message from our sons, Brian and Brad, and Brian’s wife, Liz, that our dog, Dylan, who had gone to live with them 5 years ago when we moved onto the boat (we kept the cat), was gravely ill. Over the last couple of weeks, we had done everything we could for this wonderful animal, including a blood transfusion, MRI’s, etc., but he just couldn’t fight off this one. He was only 11, and just a few weeks before, had been perfectly healthy. We felt so bad that the ‘kids’ had to deal with this, but knew they had given him a very good life, and that Dylan knew he was well loved. We knew Dylan was in good hands with them, and they did everything possible for him. We now knew it was just a matter of time.
As we were leaving Nassau Harbor the next morning, Liz called and tearfully said that it would probably be ‘the day’, because Dylan had just woken them up screaming. Dylan had been treated with steroids for an immune deficiency of some sort, and that had resulted in him swelling up with fluids from head to toe. He was in terrible pain, as you can imagine, and we are just thankful that there is something a vet can do to put an animal out of its misery. I broke into tears with the thought that Dylan had been my birthday present 11 years ago, and was going to be put down today, my birthday. The kids called back later, apologizing that they had forgotten to wish me happy birthday.
We sailed all day and had planned to keep going straight back to Florida, but the wind died sometime in the afternoon, so we ducked into a little island called Bird Cay and anchored for the evening.
We left Bird Cay about 7:30 the next morning, and sailed at a good 4 ½ to 6 knots all day and all night. With a 4-8 knot wind out of the SSE, we took the opportunity to fly the spinnaker for the first time on our cruise. For those who may not be familiar with sailing, the spinnaker is that very large, colorful head sail that can be used in light winds that are ‘abaft the beam’. This gave us an additional 1-2 knots of speed. As evening approached, we doused the spinnaker and took turns keeping watch, which just means that with the auto helm on, you just have to watch that you don’t run into any other boats, which out there is not too likely, and check our course periodically to make necessary adjustments. Crossing the Gulf Stream which flows at 3-4 knots pushes you north at a rate almost equal to your sailing speed. Therefore, you have to take that into account when plotting your course. For example, we met a couple in the Abacos sailing a trimaran from Lake Worth to West End Bahamas, a distance of about 60 nm. By not compensating for the current and finding themselves in a 25 to 30 knot se wind, they ended up 20 miles north of the Bahamas! However, with a cooperating east wind and setting a course 10* south of our destination, we had no problem and arrived back in Lake Worth, Florida, about 1 p.m. the following day. We were able to sail almost the entire way. We went ashore, got lunch, came back, did a little reading and fell asleep at 4:00!
While sailing overnight can be exhausting, it can also be the most rewarding. This night crossing will always stand as one of the most memorable for John. While I slept, John kept watch. The light winds of the day continued into the predawn. With the autopilot on, John recalls sitting on the forward deck sometime after midnight, marveling at the stars and gently rolling sea. With starlight so bright that the rigging cast a shadow on the deck and the water against the hull and the occasional creak the only sound, from just off the bow, a barely audible sigh intrudes into his consciousness. Moving to the bow pulpit, he searches the dark water to identify the source, not sure he heard anything at all. Then he hears it again, turning just in time to see first one then several dolphin swimming alongside. The sound is the sound of their breathing as they surface. This is unlike earlier dolphin visits with the bow crashing through the waves and the dolphin frolicking in the foam. This is a gentle encounter. The dolphin barely ripple the surface; streaming bioluminescence stirred by their passing. At its best, sailing on the ocean merges the physical and transcendental. This was one of those times, rare, and therefore treasured.
Back in the US, with the transcendental left offshore, we turn to the practical. The lack of available supplies and services in the Bahamas have resulted in the need to refurbish and resupply. I must admit that I am happy to be back in the land of wall-to-wall conveniences. An American grocery and hardware stores look like paradise. All those choices!!
The next day, Sunday, we left Lake Worth and sailed up the coast towards St. Augustine. On the way, we were visited by 9 dolphins who had the best time zooming up by the bow of the boat, then dropping back, then racing up to the bow again. I was standing up by the bow and when they would race up to swim along side us, they would turn sideways so they could see me better. I just wonder what they think. We also saw three giant loggerhead turtles and John caught a 10 pound tunny!.
We called Customs upon re-entering the US and instead of sending one of the many, many boats we see that Homeland Security has all over the place here, including Customs boats, which just roam around the inlets, they insisted that we have a ‘face to face’ in Jacksonville. That meant we had to rent a car and spend a half day traveling. So, after offloading and selling our contraband and settling the many illegal Haitian aliens that accompanied us, we arranged for a rental car pick up and headed to the Jacksonville Port Authority. Once there, armed Customs & Immigration officers accompanied us through security and down the hall to the office, taking no chances that we may be a security threat. Everyone was very nice and had plenty of time to chat but you have to wonder about the efficacy of such a system. First of all they would have had no idea that we had even left the country, let alone returned, except for our call. And, of course, anyone of nefarious purpose would not bother checking in. You can imagine their call. “Hi, this is Hamid, my last port of call was the Straits of Hormuz and my next is Paradise!” So, what purpose does this system serve? What if we really had smuggled stuff in on the boat? We were disconcerted to see so much tax money spent on all this equipment, and all these people, who apparently add nothing to our security. Essentially, it’s a voluntary security system. I should add that Florida has a system that allows you to register with Immigration in advance so that you only have to call upon arrival back in the States. This takes care of the inconvenience issue, but leaves the security question open. On the other hand, if they had boarded our boat and did a thorough search, I would probably be complaining about 'police state' tactics. Nonetheless, the Daily Show could have a field day with this stuff.
Saying a fond farewell to George Town, we threaded our way back through some of the places we had been before, stopping the first night at Little Farmer’s Cay and the second evening at Staniel Cay. We arrived at Staniel Cay early enough to get fuel, but the fuel docks were blocked by two mega yachts, so we anchored away from the island and waited until morning. At about 8:00 the next morning, coasting toward the fuel dock we checked to make sure the transmission was working and to our dismay we realized that we had no reverse gear even though it checked it out before when we weighed anchor 20 minutes before! Stopping 25 tons of boat without playing bumper cars with either the dock or other boats can be a little tricky. Fortunately, we had rehearsed such a possibility and using the incoming tide and an offshore breeze to slow us down and dock lines as a break, we docked with such apparent ease that our arrival went completely unnoticed. John wanted to shout, "Did you see that, see what we just did!!!" Instead, after quietly congratulating ourselves, we topped up the tanks with diesel at $5.65 a gallon and water at $.40 a gallon. I was surprised to have to pay for water in a place that is surrounded by the stuff (“water, water everywhere but nar' a drop to drink”), but in the 3 ½ months we have been here, it has probably rained for a grand total of ten minutes. Most of the potable water is desalinated through the reverse osmosis process making it very expensive. With about a 200 gallon capacity for both water and fuel, however, we only had to fill up twice during our entire Bahamas visit.
We pulled away from the fuel dock and rounded Big Major, an island just a mile north of Staniel, and anchored in a beautiful spot. With the transmission leak worsening and no chance of getting it repaired locally, John had dinghied back to Staniel Cay to buy more transmission fluid. As long as we maintained the fluid level, the transmission worked fine. However, there are few places to procure fluid in the Exumas, so we needed as much as we could find.
I stayed aboard to revel in a shower (with my $.40 a gallon water) and do some reading. I came back up on deck with my book to the sound of a single-engine airplane taking off from the small runway. I HOPE this was a beginner’s first lesson, because the pilot successfully cleared the runway, the small line of trees in front, but then took a nosedive right between the masts of the two sailboats beside us (about 20 feet off the water). Then the instructor (I assume) pulled the nose of the plane straight up, they eventually leveled out, and off they went. I watched them go back and forth for the next hour or so, ready to head down into the cabin if they came my way, and of course fearing for my masts. I am happy to report that the rest of the lesson went much better than the beginning.
We were anchored near a new resort by the name of Fowl Cay, which sounds much better than Chicken Cay, which is it’s old name. We had heard that it was beautiful and that it had a great restaurant, so we called in on the VHF radio and made reservations for that evening. I have to say that if you have money ($10,000 per week for the one-bedroom cottage) and want an exotic place to hang out, this would be it. We arrived for dinner with only two other parties, and were greeted by the manager, a young man with a great Aussie accent, and offered a drink while we strolled around the various outdoor verandas, enjoying the view. The restaurant sits on the highest point of the island and offers a 360* water view. Someone from the kitchen eventually came to get our order and we were seated about 20 minutes later in a dining room of a building that would make an absolutely fantastic house. The meal was the best we had had in the whole country, and the chef, whom they had ‘rescued’ from a 4-star resort near George Town, came out to see how we had enjoyed the meal. About this time, we are wondering if we are going to get out of there without having to mortgage the boat, and we just barely made it. There had been no menu, no prices, etc., and it ended up being a flat $100 each. John said he should have drunk more wine!!! Since my birthday was the next week, I thanked John for the best birthday meal ever, letting him know he was ‘off the hook’ for anything else.
The next morning, we left the anchorage and headed back up towards Norman’s Cay. It was an absolutely perfect 4 knot sail (that’s slow folks, about 4.5 mph), but that’s the way I like it. It stretches out the fun for me, the boat is perfectly straight up (so nothing down below is getting thrown around, including me), and it’s just so peaceful. Also, it is not scary. Anyway you cut it, I am still your garden variety chicken. When we stop for the evening, John continues to work on trying to locate the source of the leak in the transmission, but it remains elusive.
We arrived in Nassau just about sunset, anchored in the harbor there, and went ashore for dinner at the Green Parrot. The next morning, we dinghied into town, went to Starbucks, where we could use the WiFi and retrieve our email. We had a message from our sons, Brian and Brad, and Brian’s wife, Liz, that our dog, Dylan, who had gone to live with them 5 years ago when we moved onto the boat (we kept the cat), was gravely ill. Over the last couple of weeks, we had done everything we could for this wonderful animal, including a blood transfusion, MRI’s, etc., but he just couldn’t fight off this one. He was only 11, and just a few weeks before, had been perfectly healthy. We felt so bad that the ‘kids’ had to deal with this, but knew they had given him a very good life, and that Dylan knew he was well loved. We knew Dylan was in good hands with them, and they did everything possible for him. We now knew it was just a matter of time.
As we were leaving Nassau Harbor the next morning, Liz called and tearfully said that it would probably be ‘the day’, because Dylan had just woken them up screaming. Dylan had been treated with steroids for an immune deficiency of some sort, and that had resulted in him swelling up with fluids from head to toe. He was in terrible pain, as you can imagine, and we are just thankful that there is something a vet can do to put an animal out of its misery. I broke into tears with the thought that Dylan had been my birthday present 11 years ago, and was going to be put down today, my birthday. The kids called back later, apologizing that they had forgotten to wish me happy birthday.
We sailed all day and had planned to keep going straight back to Florida, but the wind died sometime in the afternoon, so we ducked into a little island called Bird Cay and anchored for the evening.
We left Bird Cay about 7:30 the next morning, and sailed at a good 4 ½ to 6 knots all day and all night. With a 4-8 knot wind out of the SSE, we took the opportunity to fly the spinnaker for the first time on our cruise. For those who may not be familiar with sailing, the spinnaker is that very large, colorful head sail that can be used in light winds that are ‘abaft the beam’. This gave us an additional 1-2 knots of speed. As evening approached, we doused the spinnaker and took turns keeping watch, which just means that with the auto helm on, you just have to watch that you don’t run into any other boats, which out there is not too likely, and check our course periodically to make necessary adjustments. Crossing the Gulf Stream which flows at 3-4 knots pushes you north at a rate almost equal to your sailing speed. Therefore, you have to take that into account when plotting your course. For example, we met a couple in the Abacos sailing a trimaran from Lake Worth to West End Bahamas, a distance of about 60 nm. By not compensating for the current and finding themselves in a 25 to 30 knot se wind, they ended up 20 miles north of the Bahamas! However, with a cooperating east wind and setting a course 10* south of our destination, we had no problem and arrived back in Lake Worth, Florida, about 1 p.m. the following day. We were able to sail almost the entire way. We went ashore, got lunch, came back, did a little reading and fell asleep at 4:00!
While sailing overnight can be exhausting, it can also be the most rewarding. This night crossing will always stand as one of the most memorable for John. While I slept, John kept watch. The light winds of the day continued into the predawn. With the autopilot on, John recalls sitting on the forward deck sometime after midnight, marveling at the stars and gently rolling sea. With starlight so bright that the rigging cast a shadow on the deck and the water against the hull and the occasional creak the only sound, from just off the bow, a barely audible sigh intrudes into his consciousness. Moving to the bow pulpit, he searches the dark water to identify the source, not sure he heard anything at all. Then he hears it again, turning just in time to see first one then several dolphin swimming alongside. The sound is the sound of their breathing as they surface. This is unlike earlier dolphin visits with the bow crashing through the waves and the dolphin frolicking in the foam. This is a gentle encounter. The dolphin barely ripple the surface; streaming bioluminescence stirred by their passing. At its best, sailing on the ocean merges the physical and transcendental. This was one of those times, rare, and therefore treasured.
Back in the US, with the transcendental left offshore, we turn to the practical. The lack of available supplies and services in the Bahamas have resulted in the need to refurbish and resupply. I must admit that I am happy to be back in the land of wall-to-wall conveniences. An American grocery and hardware stores look like paradise. All those choices!!
The next day, Sunday, we left Lake Worth and sailed up the coast towards St. Augustine. On the way, we were visited by 9 dolphins who had the best time zooming up by the bow of the boat, then dropping back, then racing up to the bow again. I was standing up by the bow and when they would race up to swim along side us, they would turn sideways so they could see me better. I just wonder what they think. We also saw three giant loggerhead turtles and John caught a 10 pound tunny!.
We called Customs upon re-entering the US and instead of sending one of the many, many boats we see that Homeland Security has all over the place here, including Customs boats, which just roam around the inlets, they insisted that we have a ‘face to face’ in Jacksonville. That meant we had to rent a car and spend a half day traveling. So, after offloading and selling our contraband and settling the many illegal Haitian aliens that accompanied us, we arranged for a rental car pick up and headed to the Jacksonville Port Authority. Once there, armed Customs & Immigration officers accompanied us through security and down the hall to the office, taking no chances that we may be a security threat. Everyone was very nice and had plenty of time to chat but you have to wonder about the efficacy of such a system. First of all they would have had no idea that we had even left the country, let alone returned, except for our call. And, of course, anyone of nefarious purpose would not bother checking in. You can imagine their call. “Hi, this is Hamid, my last port of call was the Straits of Hormuz and my next is Paradise!” So, what purpose does this system serve? What if we really had smuggled stuff in on the boat? We were disconcerted to see so much tax money spent on all this equipment, and all these people, who apparently add nothing to our security. Essentially, it’s a voluntary security system. I should add that Florida has a system that allows you to register with Immigration in advance so that you only have to call upon arrival back in the States. This takes care of the inconvenience issue, but leaves the security question open. On the other hand, if they had boarded our boat and did a thorough search, I would probably be complaining about 'police state' tactics. Nonetheless, the Daily Show could have a field day with this stuff.
GeorgeTown or Bust
Well, here we are in GeorgeTown, Exumas, Bahamas, the southernmost point of our foray into the Bahamas. We are here late; most of the 300-400 boats that are in the harbor during the season have already left and headed back up north for the summer. The area is great for anchoring and has a large harbor with a string of adjacent islands, as well as three 'hurricane holes' which tuck back into the islands for further protection from the weather. During the winter and into the early spring, the cruisers from North America and Europe gather here and we understand have quite the party. There are beaches where they have bonfires, play volleyball, hike the hills, and generally hang out. It must be quite the place if you are an extreme extrovert, which we are not. We are happy to be here now, without the crowds, and to have most of the place to ourselves. There are a few others who got a late start, also, and we even had dinner the other evening with a family from Manhattan whom we first met in Beaufort, North Carolina. Ran into them at lunch and talked for the rest of the day and then went to their boat for dinner.
George Town has a couple of grocery stores, ice, a few restaurants, and a straw market. Of all the things they do/make here in the Bahamas, probably the straw work that the women do with the palm leaves is the most well-known. They make hats, mats, baskets, carryalls, purses, etc. from the leaves of the palm trees, weaving them delicately into different shapes, adding texture and color.
We had planned by now to be on the other side of the 'hurricane belt', but have had such good a time in the Bahamas we decided not to rush. We did get a late start, due to John and Brad's Appalachian Trail hike, then took a couple of trips back home, and now find ourselves having to decide what to do with the boat, now that hurricane season is almost upon us. We thought we would be in Trinidad or Tobago, south of the hurricane belt, and now should be laughing at our exuberance! But, we are anything but sorry that we have spent the last three and a half months in the Bahamas.
We have decided to come back to the States and leave the boat somewhere probably in Georgia or North Carolina. We are over 1100 miles from home, but have traveled much more than that, with the inevitable zigging and zagging. She is tired right now, (She~~the boat, not Pat) and needs some extreme TLC. The generator went out about two weeks ago, so we have no refrigeration. After that, we developed an air leak in the fuel line to the engine; then we discovered a leak in the transmission. So, John has been playing 'diesel mechanic' for the past week, while I putz around cleaning and polishing and trying to look busy. John talks things through using me as a soundingboard and I just 'Um hum" and try to look not too dense, and he figures things out. It is astounding how much he has learned (with a lot of help online from old friend Rob in Rhode Island) and it gives me an extra sense of security to be out here with someone who is smart enough to figure out those things he doesn't know (or knows when and whom to ask), although he will occasionally say in frustration that he didn't retire in order to learn to be a mechanic. But, if you own a boat, that's what you have to become.
We plan to have the boat thoroughly gone over this summer in the States, and start out again after hurricane season. We will bypass the Bahamas, and head for the Dominican Republic and continue our journey south through the Virgin Islands, the Windward and Leeward Islands to Trinidad, Tobago, the ABC islands just off the coast of South America then probably on to Jamaica, the Caymans, and perhaps Belize and Mexico. The plan after that is to follow the Gulf Stream up to Bermuda and head to the Azores and to the Mediterranean. Such is the stuff dreams are made of.
In the meantime, we will spend some time with family in Ohio, see the kids, and try to get Live Now into shape for the next leg of the journey. We will be taking the family to Alaska in August, and will keep you posted on that trip on this website also.
Wish us luck with the repairs and the trip home!
George Town has a couple of grocery stores, ice, a few restaurants, and a straw market. Of all the things they do/make here in the Bahamas, probably the straw work that the women do with the palm leaves is the most well-known. They make hats, mats, baskets, carryalls, purses, etc. from the leaves of the palm trees, weaving them delicately into different shapes, adding texture and color.
We had planned by now to be on the other side of the 'hurricane belt', but have had such good a time in the Bahamas we decided not to rush. We did get a late start, due to John and Brad's Appalachian Trail hike, then took a couple of trips back home, and now find ourselves having to decide what to do with the boat, now that hurricane season is almost upon us. We thought we would be in Trinidad or Tobago, south of the hurricane belt, and now should be laughing at our exuberance! But, we are anything but sorry that we have spent the last three and a half months in the Bahamas.
We have decided to come back to the States and leave the boat somewhere probably in Georgia or North Carolina. We are over 1100 miles from home, but have traveled much more than that, with the inevitable zigging and zagging. She is tired right now, (She~~the boat, not Pat) and needs some extreme TLC. The generator went out about two weeks ago, so we have no refrigeration. After that, we developed an air leak in the fuel line to the engine; then we discovered a leak in the transmission. So, John has been playing 'diesel mechanic' for the past week, while I putz around cleaning and polishing and trying to look busy. John talks things through using me as a soundingboard and I just 'Um hum" and try to look not too dense, and he figures things out. It is astounding how much he has learned (with a lot of help online from old friend Rob in Rhode Island) and it gives me an extra sense of security to be out here with someone who is smart enough to figure out those things he doesn't know (or knows when and whom to ask), although he will occasionally say in frustration that he didn't retire in order to learn to be a mechanic. But, if you own a boat, that's what you have to become.
We plan to have the boat thoroughly gone over this summer in the States, and start out again after hurricane season. We will bypass the Bahamas, and head for the Dominican Republic and continue our journey south through the Virgin Islands, the Windward and Leeward Islands to Trinidad, Tobago, the ABC islands just off the coast of South America then probably on to Jamaica, the Caymans, and perhaps Belize and Mexico. The plan after that is to follow the Gulf Stream up to Bermuda and head to the Azores and to the Mediterranean. Such is the stuff dreams are made of.
In the meantime, we will spend some time with family in Ohio, see the kids, and try to get Live Now into shape for the next leg of the journey. We will be taking the family to Alaska in August, and will keep you posted on that trip on this website also.
Wish us luck with the repairs and the trip home!
Best Field Trip Ever!
After the evening of entertainment, both Jazzman (Vic's aptly named catamaran) and Live Now sailed south to Little Farmer's Cay. They were off the next morning to get someone to the airport. We stayed for a couple of days. Not much was going on on Little Farmer's Cay, but we did have a nice lunch at the yacht club. We had called on the VHF radio for reservations for lunch, and by the time we got there, it was ready. We ate on a covered veranda and enjoyed the view, once again the only customers. The manager of the club, Roosevelt Nixon, a distinguished gentleman (that's what I call guys about my age) talked to us about the history of the island. Some 'Loyalists' settled here during the American Revolutionary War. Roosevelt, named after the U.S. president and no relation to, or namesake of, Richard Milhouse Nixon, told us that his father used to come to Little Farmers for fishing and recreation. The 'recreation', he implied, took the form of courting one of the number of pretty women who resided on the island at the time. His father eventually married a local girl after a couple of begats, begat Roosevelt.
The original settlers apparently had bought the Cay with the idea of becoming cotton and sisel farmers, but nothing grows well there~~too many rocks and too much sand. However, you can still see wild versions of both crops in vacant fields around the island. With a wide screen TV in the background, we discussed the coming U.S. election and other current events. We have always found that people from other countries know quite alot more about us and what we're up to than we know about them, and they seem quite well informed. In the Bahamas that may be due to the fact that CNN and Fox News seem to dominate the airways. The TV satellite offers primarily U.S. programming.
We needed to wait for a 'weather window', to make our run to George Town, about 40 miles away. Even though the weather was delightful, we needed to have a west or south of east wind to make an easy passage on the Exuma Sound. To date our Exuma travels kept us to the Exuma Banks side of the island chain. This is protected, shallow water with numerous safe anchorages. Just south of Little Farmers Cay, the Banks become impassably shallow for even moderate draft vessels. Reaching George Town requires exiting the Banks at one of the 'Cuts' (such as Big Rock Cut at Little Farmers) or channels to the Sound. An easterly wind blowing strong over several days can create what's known as a "Rage"; breaking water across the entire Cut. Some Rages set up walls of water 4' high. On top of that, there are no safe anchorages on the Sound side. Although I was game to try it :) John wasn't. So we had a couple of days to just poke around. John suggested we get in the dinghy and go exploring. We ride along the shore for awhile , and I'm wondering where he is going, but don't say anything because I'm enjoying the ride. I'm blisfully unaware of the fact that he actually has a place in mind that he wants to check out. I'm kind of suspicious when he turns and begins to head out into what looks like just plain ocean. But, trusting soul that I am, I just keep my mouth shut. Before long, I spied something out in the water which kept getting bigger and bigger. It seems like it took ages to get there, but there it was, an island in the making, about 20 feet wide, a mile and a half long, and about 3 feet high at low tide.
We pulled our dinghy up on the sand and were greeted by roseate terns, gulls and other sea birds, a rather large southern sting ray (five feet in diameter, lurking in 1' of water near the shore), and a two foot long baracuda (another lurker). And shells! No one goes there, so there were shells galore just ripe for the picking. It made me feel like a grade school kid on a field trip, where the teacher tells us that in another hundred years or so this will be the newest island in the Bahamas chain, and here we are to testify to the fact that we saw it first! We spent a couple of hours walking both shorelines (sometimes with one foot on each shore), picking up conch shells, sand dollars and other curiosities before heading back. All in all a great field trip. The only down side is that John made me to do a field trip report and do a shell presentation.
The original settlers apparently had bought the Cay with the idea of becoming cotton and sisel farmers, but nothing grows well there~~too many rocks and too much sand. However, you can still see wild versions of both crops in vacant fields around the island. With a wide screen TV in the background, we discussed the coming U.S. election and other current events. We have always found that people from other countries know quite alot more about us and what we're up to than we know about them, and they seem quite well informed. In the Bahamas that may be due to the fact that CNN and Fox News seem to dominate the airways. The TV satellite offers primarily U.S. programming.
We needed to wait for a 'weather window', to make our run to George Town, about 40 miles away. Even though the weather was delightful, we needed to have a west or south of east wind to make an easy passage on the Exuma Sound. To date our Exuma travels kept us to the Exuma Banks side of the island chain. This is protected, shallow water with numerous safe anchorages. Just south of Little Farmers Cay, the Banks become impassably shallow for even moderate draft vessels. Reaching George Town requires exiting the Banks at one of the 'Cuts' (such as Big Rock Cut at Little Farmers) or channels to the Sound. An easterly wind blowing strong over several days can create what's known as a "Rage"; breaking water across the entire Cut. Some Rages set up walls of water 4' high. On top of that, there are no safe anchorages on the Sound side. Although I was game to try it :) John wasn't. So we had a couple of days to just poke around. John suggested we get in the dinghy and go exploring. We ride along the shore for awhile , and I'm wondering where he is going, but don't say anything because I'm enjoying the ride. I'm blisfully unaware of the fact that he actually has a place in mind that he wants to check out. I'm kind of suspicious when he turns and begins to head out into what looks like just plain ocean. But, trusting soul that I am, I just keep my mouth shut. Before long, I spied something out in the water which kept getting bigger and bigger. It seems like it took ages to get there, but there it was, an island in the making, about 20 feet wide, a mile and a half long, and about 3 feet high at low tide.
We pulled our dinghy up on the sand and were greeted by roseate terns, gulls and other sea birds, a rather large southern sting ray (five feet in diameter, lurking in 1' of water near the shore), and a two foot long baracuda (another lurker). And shells! No one goes there, so there were shells galore just ripe for the picking. It made me feel like a grade school kid on a field trip, where the teacher tells us that in another hundred years or so this will be the newest island in the Bahamas chain, and here we are to testify to the fact that we saw it first! We spent a couple of hours walking both shorelines (sometimes with one foot on each shore), picking up conch shells, sand dollars and other curiosities before heading back. All in all a great field trip. The only down side is that John made me to do a field trip report and do a shell presentation.
Typical Exumas Grocery Store
The green building is the grocery store on Little Farmer's Cay. We found no one there and knocked on the doors of the houses on either side to no avail. Maybe tomorrow.
Bull Shark at Cambridge Cay
Eleni, this one's for you!!!
We first thought this our old friendly nurse shark but on a more careful review discovered a shark of a totally different dispostion. She visited us several times a day.
Exploration and Entertainment in the Exumas
During the past few days, we have had the pleasure of exploring some really great areas in the Exumas. On our way south to George Town, which is the southernmost point of most people's foray into the Bahamas, we stopped at Cambridge Cay, at the southern end of the Exumas Cay Land and Sea Park. Cambridge Cay is known for its great places to snorkel. We snorkeled "The Aquarium", the "Coral Gardens" and a couple of caves carved out of the limestone. Because the Park doesn't allow fishing, when you enter the water, you're immediately surrounded by hundreds of brilliantly colored tropical fish. Whether just curious, or more likely, looking for a handout, it makes for a wonderfully memorable experience. This lack of fear of humans can be seen also in the presence of a 5' bull shark that frequented our mooring at Cambridge Cay. Bull sharks, unlike the nurse sharks of Compass Cay, have a nasty reputation for aggression, and discouraged any carefree early morning swims.
The coral reefs here were truly amazing: stag horn coral 4 - 5 feet tall, table corals that could sit 6 people comfortably and a wide range of fan, brain and others in colors that seem unreal.
On the next island south that we visited, Staniel Cay, is the cave made famous by the James Bond movie "Thunderball". We actually had Mothers Day dinner at Club Thunderball. John explored the cave the next day and found plenty of coral and fish, but no "Bond" girls (although he did seem to be gone for a suspiciously long time)! You have to go underwater beneath rocks and come out into the cave. Stalactites and stalagmites cover the ceiling and floors. The natural light coming from holes in the ceiling give them a cathedral-like feeling.
The sparsely populated Exumas offer few opportunities for re-supply. Our experience at Staniel Cay reflects the challenges to those of us used to the "convenience " culture. We needed gas for the dingy and propane for the stove. The cruising guide states that gas and propane are both available at Staniel Cay. In fact, Staniel Cay is the only place in the Exumas outside of George Town where both can be bought. With our last ounces of gas, we dinghied to the fuel dock at Staniel Cay Marina (the only retail fuel source on the island). Finding no one on the dock, John went to the Marina restaurant to get some help only to find that:
"We don't have gas."
"You don't have gas now or you never have gas?"
"Oh, we usually have gas but not right now."
"When will you have it?"
"Not till the fuel boat comes in. It should be here any day."
"Is there anyplace else I can get some?"
"Well you could dinghy over to Sampson Cay (5 miles away)."
Five miles is about the cruising limit of our dingy. Even if I could get there, I would only be able to buy enough fuel to get me back. So, the next day, we moved Live Now to Sampson Cay, bought gas, had a wonderful lunch on the beach at this beautiful resort and returned to Staniel. We still needed propane. The next morning, we dinghied into Staniel Cay's general store (the only source for propane). The clerk told us to leave the tank and pick it up the next day. The next day we returned to find that they had run out of propane.
I asked, "When will you have it?"
"Not till the fuel boat comes in."
"When's that?"
"Not sure."
"Where else can we get it?"
"Maybe, George Town."'
So, we picked up our tank and headed south the next morning. That was 2 weeks ago. We're in George Town now and the fuel boat still hasn't arrived. This morning, Tuesday, I stopped by the propane supply store. Propane was supposed to have been delivered 6 days ago. We're still waiting. I asked the young man there:
"When do you expect to get propane?"
"When the fuel boat gets in, probably Thursday, maybe Friday."
(Sigh....)
Imagine being totally dependent upon the fuel boat, the supply boat, the mail boat. The restaurants and grocery stores order from Nassau and have it delivered a week later by boat, so it behooves you to know when the supply boat will get here. Otherwise, the store shelves may be empty. Some islands will have two or three 'grocery stores', which range from the size of a shed to maybe a one car garage) but in one you may find a couple of boxes of cereal, some potatoes, onions, some cleaning supplies, lots of rice, and some soup (all of one kind). In another store, you might find juice and paper towels. In the third, if you're lucky, you might find milk. On the larger islands, you have regular grocery stores, which are remind me of a small town IGA in the US, so it's wise to stock up for your trip to the 'out islands'.
Next, we went to Blackpoint Settlement, which was a very non-touristy town. Everyone seemed to watch us as we walked down the street, so we must have been something of a novelty. Lorraine's Cafe had been recommended to us by another boater, so we went there for dinner. We had made reservations, but still we were the only ones there. It is now past tourist season. People have already begun their trips back home. It is beginning to get really hot here. Last week, we had two days of 111 degrees. There's almost always a breeze, however, making it feel relatively pleasant. We waited a few minutes for Lorraine to arrive. She asked us what we wanted to eat. We asked, "What do you have?" She replied, "I can make you chicken or fish." Pat had the chicken. I had the fish (grouper, of course). Everything was delicious.
Anyway, Lorraine, the owner, server, cook, etc., told us there was going to be entertainment that evening, and about 8:00 some other Americans whom we had met that morning at Staniel Cay showed up, and the one guy is a jazz musician. He actually grew up with James Taylor and was part of Taylor's first band, The Fabulous Corsairs. So, we spent a very enjoyable evening with Vic doing music, (he was really good!) while we visited with his sister, Ann, and their friends, Frank and Debbie. The townspeople began to flock in, and Vic played for a couple of hours going through his repertoire of easy jazz classics to the enthusiastic applause of the small audience. When it came time for requests, there was only one. Lorraine and her mother requested the old spiritual, "Amazing Grace", and got up and sang 6 verses of this wonderful song to Vic's accompaniment. I don't know who enjoyed it more~~us or the townspeople. Based on our limited experience, religion plays a big role in Bahamian life. Even the smallest Cay has several churches. Scripture and religious art don the walls of most public buildings, including the post office and other government offices.
The coral reefs here were truly amazing: stag horn coral 4 - 5 feet tall, table corals that could sit 6 people comfortably and a wide range of fan, brain and others in colors that seem unreal.
On the next island south that we visited, Staniel Cay, is the cave made famous by the James Bond movie "Thunderball". We actually had Mothers Day dinner at Club Thunderball. John explored the cave the next day and found plenty of coral and fish, but no "Bond" girls (although he did seem to be gone for a suspiciously long time)! You have to go underwater beneath rocks and come out into the cave. Stalactites and stalagmites cover the ceiling and floors. The natural light coming from holes in the ceiling give them a cathedral-like feeling.
The sparsely populated Exumas offer few opportunities for re-supply. Our experience at Staniel Cay reflects the challenges to those of us used to the "convenience " culture. We needed gas for the dingy and propane for the stove. The cruising guide states that gas and propane are both available at Staniel Cay. In fact, Staniel Cay is the only place in the Exumas outside of George Town where both can be bought. With our last ounces of gas, we dinghied to the fuel dock at Staniel Cay Marina (the only retail fuel source on the island). Finding no one on the dock, John went to the Marina restaurant to get some help only to find that:
"We don't have gas."
"You don't have gas now or you never have gas?"
"Oh, we usually have gas but not right now."
"When will you have it?"
"Not till the fuel boat comes in. It should be here any day."
"Is there anyplace else I can get some?"
"Well you could dinghy over to Sampson Cay (5 miles away)."
Five miles is about the cruising limit of our dingy. Even if I could get there, I would only be able to buy enough fuel to get me back. So, the next day, we moved Live Now to Sampson Cay, bought gas, had a wonderful lunch on the beach at this beautiful resort and returned to Staniel. We still needed propane. The next morning, we dinghied into Staniel Cay's general store (the only source for propane). The clerk told us to leave the tank and pick it up the next day. The next day we returned to find that they had run out of propane.
I asked, "When will you have it?"
"Not till the fuel boat comes in."
"When's that?"
"Not sure."
"Where else can we get it?"
"Maybe, George Town."'
So, we picked up our tank and headed south the next morning. That was 2 weeks ago. We're in George Town now and the fuel boat still hasn't arrived. This morning, Tuesday, I stopped by the propane supply store. Propane was supposed to have been delivered 6 days ago. We're still waiting. I asked the young man there:
"When do you expect to get propane?"
"When the fuel boat gets in, probably Thursday, maybe Friday."
(Sigh....)
Imagine being totally dependent upon the fuel boat, the supply boat, the mail boat. The restaurants and grocery stores order from Nassau and have it delivered a week later by boat, so it behooves you to know when the supply boat will get here. Otherwise, the store shelves may be empty. Some islands will have two or three 'grocery stores', which range from the size of a shed to maybe a one car garage) but in one you may find a couple of boxes of cereal, some potatoes, onions, some cleaning supplies, lots of rice, and some soup (all of one kind). In another store, you might find juice and paper towels. In the third, if you're lucky, you might find milk. On the larger islands, you have regular grocery stores, which are remind me of a small town IGA in the US, so it's wise to stock up for your trip to the 'out islands'.
Next, we went to Blackpoint Settlement, which was a very non-touristy town. Everyone seemed to watch us as we walked down the street, so we must have been something of a novelty. Lorraine's Cafe had been recommended to us by another boater, so we went there for dinner. We had made reservations, but still we were the only ones there. It is now past tourist season. People have already begun their trips back home. It is beginning to get really hot here. Last week, we had two days of 111 degrees. There's almost always a breeze, however, making it feel relatively pleasant. We waited a few minutes for Lorraine to arrive. She asked us what we wanted to eat. We asked, "What do you have?" She replied, "I can make you chicken or fish." Pat had the chicken. I had the fish (grouper, of course). Everything was delicious.
Anyway, Lorraine, the owner, server, cook, etc., told us there was going to be entertainment that evening, and about 8:00 some other Americans whom we had met that morning at Staniel Cay showed up, and the one guy is a jazz musician. He actually grew up with James Taylor and was part of Taylor's first band, The Fabulous Corsairs. So, we spent a very enjoyable evening with Vic doing music, (he was really good!) while we visited with his sister, Ann, and their friends, Frank and Debbie. The townspeople began to flock in, and Vic played for a couple of hours going through his repertoire of easy jazz classics to the enthusiastic applause of the small audience. When it came time for requests, there was only one. Lorraine and her mother requested the old spiritual, "Amazing Grace", and got up and sang 6 verses of this wonderful song to Vic's accompaniment. I don't know who enjoyed it more~~us or the townspeople. Based on our limited experience, religion plays a big role in Bahamian life. Even the smallest Cay has several churches. Scripture and religious art don the walls of most public buildings, including the post office and other government offices.
Mangrove 101
One of the most interesting plants in the Bahama chain is the mangrove, which we knew very little about. There are three different mangrove plants which grow in succession, holding the soil in place and creating new land.
The red mangrove grows closest to the water's edge. The red roots bow out and anchor themselves firmly in the unstable ground (which, they say, are a good thing to tie off to in a hurricane) and they commence to gathering silt and building up land. This sedimentation, then, makes it possible for the next group, the black mangroves, to come in and dwell in the mud. They, then, put out a root system which sticks straight up, catching still more silt, transforming the mud into hard ground. This makes way for the grey mangrove, or buttonwood tree, which grows to 15 to 25 feet and is highly prized as driftwood.
The plants really don't like the salt, and certain leaves will be designated (by whom I don't know) as sacrificial leaves. They will absorb the salt for the entire plant, turn yellow, and fall off, allowing the plant to survive the harsh conditions. And, now you know as much or more than we do about mangroves.
While anchored at Shroud Cay, we took the dhingy and toured the mangrove swamp for a couple of hours. A couple we met at dinner at Norman's Cay the other night said to pay particular attention to where you are going, because it was easy for them to get lost in the swamp. We wound our way through the swamp, along with a couple of young sharks, and came upon two women from Canada who were spending their vacation kayaking in the area. They had brought two kayaks and their gear on the plane from Canada to Nassau and chartered a small plane to bring them and their stuff out here (using Carlos' old airstrip). Had to admire them for going to all that trouble.
The red mangrove grows closest to the water's edge. The red roots bow out and anchor themselves firmly in the unstable ground (which, they say, are a good thing to tie off to in a hurricane) and they commence to gathering silt and building up land. This sedimentation, then, makes it possible for the next group, the black mangroves, to come in and dwell in the mud. They, then, put out a root system which sticks straight up, catching still more silt, transforming the mud into hard ground. This makes way for the grey mangrove, or buttonwood tree, which grows to 15 to 25 feet and is highly prized as driftwood.
The plants really don't like the salt, and certain leaves will be designated (by whom I don't know) as sacrificial leaves. They will absorb the salt for the entire plant, turn yellow, and fall off, allowing the plant to survive the harsh conditions. And, now you know as much or more than we do about mangroves.
While anchored at Shroud Cay, we took the dhingy and toured the mangrove swamp for a couple of hours. A couple we met at dinner at Norman's Cay the other night said to pay particular attention to where you are going, because it was easy for them to get lost in the swamp. We wound our way through the swamp, along with a couple of young sharks, and came upon two women from Canada who were spending their vacation kayaking in the area. They had brought two kayaks and their gear on the plane from Canada to Nassau and chartered a small plane to bring them and their stuff out here (using Carlos' old airstrip). Had to admire them for going to all that trouble.
Drug Deal Gone Bad
The airplane in the photo as well as a few bullet holes in the buildings on the south side of the island are all that is left of the empire of Carlos Lehder, a Columbian of German ancestry, who bought the island of Norman's Cay in the 1970's to use in the Medellin Cartel's drug smuggling operations. He first appeared in the area in 1977, buying up as much property as he could, often intimidating people into selling. He then sank over $5 million into Norman's Cay, enlarging the airstrip and lengthing the dock.
Subsequently, boaters like us who just like to anchor near an island for the evening and enjoy the scenery, were chased off by gun-toting guards. This, understandably, was met by some suspicion by boaters (a generally bright group), and the Bahamian police as well as the USDEA were notified. The DEA began surveillance of the island and Lehder's comings and goings, and in September of 1979, a raid by Bahamian police netted 33 Germans, Americans and Colombians. Lehder was, at the time, on a nearby island, and was captured attempting to flee in a small boat. He claimed he thought the police and DEA were coming to kidnap him. However, a corrupt Bahamian official had warned Lehder of the raid and Norman's Cay was spotless! Even though Lehder was arrested, he was released with no charges after turning over a suitcase containing $250,000 to Bahamian officials. He and his men were back in business within 48 hours!
Finally, in January of 1981, a 39 count indictment was handed down in US court naming Lehder and 13 others. By this time, Lehder was hiding out mostly in Columbia. The new plane designed to smuggle drugs crashed into the shallow water about 100 yards off the runway, and things generally began to look bleak for old Carlos. He was finally captured by Columbian authorities in February of 1987, just outside Medellin, and extradited to the United States. In May of 1988, Carlos was convicted and sentenced to life without parole plus 135 years.
We have been to Norman's Cay twice, now, and both times have eaten at the great little restaurant there. The restaurant is very simple, but truly elegant. The grouper dinner that John ate was caught by the restaurant manager that morning. It is the kind of place where the customers come to feel so much at home that when the manager or the server (who are also the cooks) are back in the kitchen, the 'regulars' get up and start serving the customers. Reservations are 'required', but if you don't have one, that's okay, too. Also, they don't start serving until 7:00, but if you want to eat at 6:00, that, again, is okay. (Very Bahamin). This time we met a guy who is about our age who has been cruising the Caribbean since the 1970's. He was in college in upstate New York, went to the Florida Keys for spring break, met some cruisers, and decided this was the life for him. He was here to reclaim his 39 foot boat, which had silted in (after having left it here 7 years ago) just behind the airplane. He is a musician, and has spent the last 35-40 years roaming the Caribbean, playing music, making friends, and generally living a very simple, pleasant life onboard.
As for Norman's Cay now, there are a few permanent residents, three cute vacation cottages (without bullet holes) and a lovely restaurant. The airstrip is still there and so are the docks, but both are decaying, and I think that's just the way the residents like it.
Subsequently, boaters like us who just like to anchor near an island for the evening and enjoy the scenery, were chased off by gun-toting guards. This, understandably, was met by some suspicion by boaters (a generally bright group), and the Bahamian police as well as the USDEA were notified. The DEA began surveillance of the island and Lehder's comings and goings, and in September of 1979, a raid by Bahamian police netted 33 Germans, Americans and Colombians. Lehder was, at the time, on a nearby island, and was captured attempting to flee in a small boat. He claimed he thought the police and DEA were coming to kidnap him. However, a corrupt Bahamian official had warned Lehder of the raid and Norman's Cay was spotless! Even though Lehder was arrested, he was released with no charges after turning over a suitcase containing $250,000 to Bahamian officials. He and his men were back in business within 48 hours!
Finally, in January of 1981, a 39 count indictment was handed down in US court naming Lehder and 13 others. By this time, Lehder was hiding out mostly in Columbia. The new plane designed to smuggle drugs crashed into the shallow water about 100 yards off the runway, and things generally began to look bleak for old Carlos. He was finally captured by Columbian authorities in February of 1987, just outside Medellin, and extradited to the United States. In May of 1988, Carlos was convicted and sentenced to life without parole plus 135 years.
We have been to Norman's Cay twice, now, and both times have eaten at the great little restaurant there. The restaurant is very simple, but truly elegant. The grouper dinner that John ate was caught by the restaurant manager that morning. It is the kind of place where the customers come to feel so much at home that when the manager or the server (who are also the cooks) are back in the kitchen, the 'regulars' get up and start serving the customers. Reservations are 'required', but if you don't have one, that's okay, too. Also, they don't start serving until 7:00, but if you want to eat at 6:00, that, again, is okay. (Very Bahamin). This time we met a guy who is about our age who has been cruising the Caribbean since the 1970's. He was in college in upstate New York, went to the Florida Keys for spring break, met some cruisers, and decided this was the life for him. He was here to reclaim his 39 foot boat, which had silted in (after having left it here 7 years ago) just behind the airplane. He is a musician, and has spent the last 35-40 years roaming the Caribbean, playing music, making friends, and generally living a very simple, pleasant life onboard.
As for Norman's Cay now, there are a few permanent residents, three cute vacation cottages (without bullet holes) and a lovely restaurant. The airstrip is still there and so are the docks, but both are decaying, and I think that's just the way the residents like it.
Haitian Fishing Boat Leaving Nassau Channel
These fishing boats have no lights, electronics or engines. They routinely travel back and forth between Haiti and the Bahamas using only a compass for navigation. This lateen rigged boat was tacking against the wind up the narrow Nassau Channel as dusk fell, heading for home.
Off Again!!!
Well, we're off again, after spending several weeks docked in Nassau. We got alot of things done on the boat and took care of much personal business, but we were getting pretty bored. (Actually, I didn't know I was bored until we started off again this morning, and I thought, "Oh, I like this so much better!") So, Sunday morning, May 4, we left Nassau and headed again for the Exumas, where we had been with Craig and Eleni. The wind was not in our favor, and we ended up motoring about 30 miles to Highborne Cay, where we anchored among the baby sharks and the mamma and poppa stingrays. As I write this, I think the baby shark (actually, there was only one) and the rays are under the boat in the shade. I would be if I were them. My thermometer says it's 93 in the cockpit!
To get from Nassau to here you have to go through kind of a 'mine field' of coral reefs. There is about a 10-mile stretch where you have to have someone on the bow of the boat looking out for the coral reefs which have grown so large they are almost above water. They appear like dark patches in the otherwise aquamarine water. Running into one of those could do a real number on the reef, not to mention the bottom of the boat.
We took advantage of being in Nassau and did some 'touristy' things, like went to Paradise Island. That is where most people go who visit the Bahamas on a cruise ship or on a tour of some kind. We also went to the downtown area of Nassau and looked at the neat stuff to buy, but all we bought was lunch. We took the bus all around the island just to see how the people live and what else is out there. The Bahamas is one of the more affluent countries in the region, and many people come here (legally or otherwise) looking for work. This has caused the same type of problems that we have in the US, and they have even fewer resources to deal with them. Last night, for example, we saw two Hatian boats (no engines, no lights, no navigational gear, etc.) leaving the harbor near sunset. We were saying goodbye to a friend we had made, who is the night watchman at the marina. He explained that those are the type of boats they smuggle Hatians into the Bahamas on. In almost 3 months in the Bahamas, we have seen no Bahamian Coast Guard. That's because there is none. They do have a rescue boat I have seen in Nassau, but it is a volunteer venture. I know they rely alot on the US Coast Guard, because the Bahamas is a stopping off point for the people-smuggling business. Next stop, Florida.
Like so many others (the lucky ones) our friend, Ron, the night watchman, came from Jamaica to the Bahamas in search of work. He has been here for 2 years and plans to stay one more. He is living frugally and saving in order to return to Jamaica, buy a couple of mini-vans and have his own taxi business. He would be considered very successful, and I'm sure he will be. In the meantime, we are supposed to be on the lookout for a wife~~something on his list he has not accomplished yet.
To get from Nassau to here you have to go through kind of a 'mine field' of coral reefs. There is about a 10-mile stretch where you have to have someone on the bow of the boat looking out for the coral reefs which have grown so large they are almost above water. They appear like dark patches in the otherwise aquamarine water. Running into one of those could do a real number on the reef, not to mention the bottom of the boat.
We took advantage of being in Nassau and did some 'touristy' things, like went to Paradise Island. That is where most people go who visit the Bahamas on a cruise ship or on a tour of some kind. We also went to the downtown area of Nassau and looked at the neat stuff to buy, but all we bought was lunch. We took the bus all around the island just to see how the people live and what else is out there. The Bahamas is one of the more affluent countries in the region, and many people come here (legally or otherwise) looking for work. This has caused the same type of problems that we have in the US, and they have even fewer resources to deal with them. Last night, for example, we saw two Hatian boats (no engines, no lights, no navigational gear, etc.) leaving the harbor near sunset. We were saying goodbye to a friend we had made, who is the night watchman at the marina. He explained that those are the type of boats they smuggle Hatians into the Bahamas on. In almost 3 months in the Bahamas, we have seen no Bahamian Coast Guard. That's because there is none. They do have a rescue boat I have seen in Nassau, but it is a volunteer venture. I know they rely alot on the US Coast Guard, because the Bahamas is a stopping off point for the people-smuggling business. Next stop, Florida.
Like so many others (the lucky ones) our friend, Ron, the night watchman, came from Jamaica to the Bahamas in search of work. He has been here for 2 years and plans to stay one more. He is living frugally and saving in order to return to Jamaica, buy a couple of mini-vans and have his own taxi business. He would be considered very successful, and I'm sure he will be. In the meantime, we are supposed to be on the lookout for a wife~~something on his list he has not accomplished yet.
Shark Girl Speaks
I have been asked to submit an entry to the blog about our trip with John and Pat in the Bahamas...so here it goes. I was initially very worried about spending 10 days on a sailboat. My previous experiences on ocean going vessels basically involved hanging over the edge of the boat while getting sick. The lure of being surrounded by blue skies, warm weather and crystal clear water, even if while throwing up, was still better than cold snow/rain in Ohio. Our plan was to meet John and Pat in Nassau, then from there sail to the Exumas. The trip there didn't go as planned and we had a VERY stressful first day. Something about missing luggage/passports/credit cards...I can't quite remember (ahem....you're welcome Dad). Thanks to the kindness of the Bahamian people we managed to get everything in order by sunset of the first day. Day two we stocked up and set sail for the Exumas. I had this theory that if I had a couple beers before we set sail I would expect to feel a little off balance and therefore wouldn't get seasick. Well...it worked. Putting my theory to the test, I was fine the entire 10 days. The Exumas were amazing, as you can see from the pictures. The islands and beaches were basically deserted. I think we saw 1 restaurant and maybe 3 houses on the entire trip. It was incredible being able to dinghy up to the beach and have it all to yourself. Pretty much like a Corona commercial...with much older beer. (We cleaned out their fridge by drinking the beers they've had in there since 2004). We hopped along island to island, visiting beaches, making our way south down the Exuma island chain. The highlight for me was swimming with the nurse sharks at Compass Cay. I’ve been somewhat obsessed with sharks since I can remember. Swimming with them was something I’ve been dreaming about for years. The sharks there are fed on a regular basis, so they stick around. The owner of the cay calls them his pets and even has named the sharks. I was very nervous and my heart was racing the whole time, but it was definitely one of the best moments of my life. It made me want some pet sharks of my own! After our shark adventure we made our way slowly back up towards Nassau. We stopped at the Exumas Land and Sea Park and did some snorkeling. I burnt the boat name onto a piece of driftwood with a magnifying glass and the sun that we left at Warderick Wells Cay (as is the custom). We revisited the beach at Hawksbill Cay, which we all agreed was the nicest. Then it was back to Nassau to go head home. All in all it was a great vacation. I can definitely see a return trip to the Bahamas in my future. I am even looking forward to sailing again on Live Now. Turns out I was able to find my sea legs after all…who knew? Thanks for the great trip John and Pat!!
Dolphins On the Bow
While sailing along the coast south of St. Augustine, we were accompanied for about 1/2 hour by a pod of dolphin. You can't help thinking that they're really enjoying themselves!
Little Harbour Slide Show
Click on Picture for Slide Show, then, click on "View Map" to see location
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