The sail from Great Guana Cay to Treasure Cay took about 3 hours. The excellent sailing matched the excellent weather and we arrived at Treasure Cay in time for lunch. Passage into Treasure Cay’s small harbor was pretty straight forward. Radio contact with the harbour master found that the 3 or 4 moorings were taken but that there should be plenty of room to anchor. As we entered, we saw one fairly large area free of boats in an otherwise crowded basin. We circled behind the already anchored boats and approached the open space to drop the hook.
Anchoring is one of the few spectator sports in sailing. As a boat enters an anchorage, people suddenly appear in great numbers on deck and in cockpits to watch. Both self interest and the chance for amusement prompt this attention. If not done properly, the anchor can drag and result in a collision, thereby, the self interest. Also, anchoring is challenging, requiring teamwork, skill and clear communication between the person at the helm and the person on deck deploying the anchor. The team usually consists of husband, a wife, a huge male ego, and not a small measure of female trepidation. Thereby, the amusement potential: a challenging exercise requiring teamwork between spouses, communicating back and forth along the length of the boat in front of a host of strangers, coupled with the real possibility of disaster. Add to this middle-aged hearing loss, strong wind, and engine noise, plus the fact that the helmsman can’t see the anchor or chain. The potential of this situation can only be rivaled by watching a couple try to back their 26 foot runabout on a trailor down a boat ramp at the beginning of the boating season. While the comedic relief for the audience can be great, we’ve seen couples almost come to blows. It’s one of the reasons I think guns on board are a bad idea. “Come forward!” “What?” “Forward, forward!” “Did you say go to port?” “No, forward!” Except, the person at the helm only hears the start of each word because the person at the bow keeps turning his head away from the helmswoman to see what he’s doing. The helmswoman hears, “Come forw...!” Which sounds, to those aging ears like “Come port.” “Did you say port?” “No, forward, not port!”“More port?” “No, no, not port, forward damn it!” “Don’t curse at me! I’m not going to do this if you yell at me. You can just can just come back here and do it yourself!” “What? Back? Not back...!!!” Meanwhile the boat is drifting toward a $600,000 yacht (I think they install huge magnets on expensive boats that draw their less expensive brothers inexorably to them). So, with drinks in hand the early arrivers settle back to watch the show.
With all eyes on us, we pushed gently into the most likely anchoring spot. Ken took the helm, Pat acted as spotter and anchor coordinator and I went to the bow to deploy the anchor. Fortunately, our marriage has successfully passed through the fires of anchoring hell and though a little singed, the heat has produced a crispness to our communication that brings a perfect understanding and clockwork precision in our anchoring. Or, something like that. Actually, we just use hand signals (no folk gestures, however).
With the wind blowing about 15 knots and we turned into the wind in preparation to anchor. As we moved into the open space, it seemed curious to me that this one area was so open. It could be that boats had just left or it could be that the bottom was not good holding. Some bottoms are better than others for holding (I mean in the anchoring sense). In the Bahamas, the bottom can be hard rock, sand, grass, or a kind of muddy/sand gumbo. The later is the best with sand next. With a hard bottom, your anchor won’t dig in. With grass, the anchor may pierce the grassy roots and seem to hold, only to give way as the weight of boat and current pull the anchor through the layer of roots. So, we moved into position with some measure of unease. When we reached the targeted spot, I dropped the anchor in ten feet of water with sixty feet of chain. Sure enough, as soon as Ken allowed the boat to drift back on the chain, it became clear that it wasn’t holding. Raise the anchor, circle, discuss the options, try again. Drop the anchor, wait. “Is it holding?” “No.” “Wait, give it a chance.” No, it’s not holding as we slide closer to surrounding boats. Raise the anchor, circle, try again. Now people have left their cockpit and are standing on deck to get a better view. No one offers any suggestions or advice. However, after about 4 attempts, it dawns on us that this is not going to work. I think it was Einstein who defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. After a brief crew consultation, we spot an area behind the other boats, just out of the channel and find ourselves anchored securely at last. Just as we shut down the engine, in comes another sailboat looking to anchor, sees the open area, moves into it, drops her anchor, drifts, drops her anchor, drifts. I call her on the radio and advise them that we had tried that spot several times unsuccessfully. They express their gratitude, try several more times (not a male ego at work, surely) then move just outside the bad area and also find good holding. Everyone in the harbor returns to their cockpits to await the next episode.
Treasure Cay, a private resort, allows those anchored in the harbor to take advantage of the facilities. A wonderful restaurant, a beach cafe/bar, a grocery store, electronics shop, liquor store (that, never seems to be open) and the usual resort amenities. It also has one of the most magnificent beaches in the world (I think it’s in the top ten). Even compared with the fantastic beaches we had seen, this one tops them all. I can think of no words to describe it that wouldn’t sound like a vacation ad: powder white sand, pristine aquamarine sea, etc, etc. Surprisingly, hardly anyone was there and we enjoyed a nice lunch in the cafe overlooking the beach. Then it's back to the boat to recover from lunch, a return to shore to Spinnaker’s Restaurant for probably the best meal we’ve had since arriving in the Bahamas followed by a starlite walk on the beach.
Sunday morning, we weighed the anchor so laboriously deployed the day before and headed for Marsh Harbour. Sadly, we will loose Ken there as he returns to the snow and ice of the far, far north. Marsh Harbour is the 3rd largest town in the Bahamas and has regular flights to Ft. Lauderdale and Palm Springs. We’ve really enjoyed having him and he’s been tremendously helpful in getting us here. With Pat out of commission for several days due to seasickness over the past few weeks, it would have been very difficult without him. At the least, our arrival would have been considerably delayed. He also worked hard to get the deck looking as good as it ever has and we really appreciated his help. And finally, special recognition goes to Ken as the survivor of my first on-board surgery. I knew the "When There's No Doctor" book would come in handy. Hope the recovery goes well! So, out of beer, out of fodder for political debate and out of longing for his wife and family; Ken is out of here! We’ll miss him.
Our plan is to hole up here for a while. Pat needs to get her annual physical and we need to address the ever growing list of repairs and maintenance items on the boat. Marsh Harbour has a large, well protected anchorage, plenty of stores, restaurants and services (including free internet).
Are We There Yet?
"I think we’ve found the Bahamas!" Ken exclaimed as we looked down from Nippers Restaurant to the white sands and mottled, turquoise and green sea. Dark underwater patches and gently breaking waves about 1 mile offshore hinted at the coral reef at Great Guana Cay. We sat in a thatch covered restaurant eating freshly caught grouper and the ubiquitous French fries that come with every meal. Nippers Restaurant rests on a dune overlooking the Atlantic Ocean and offers a variety of entrees and liquid refreshments. They also offer entertainment in the form of singer/songwriter “Barefoot Man”, warning that you can’t leave the Bahamas without seeing him. Unfortunately, he wasn’t around so I guess we’ll have to come back. Sitting at this thatch-roofed restaurant with a warm breeze, a tropical sun and a postcard view, we felt, at last, we were seeing the Bahamas that we had imagined.
After weighing anchor at Fox Town, Tuesday morning, we had a great day of sailing and entered the harbor to anchor in White Sound, Green Turtle Cay, adjacent to the port of New Plymouth. New Plymouth was founded in 1786 by American Loyalists, who opposed the American War for Independence. Pastel, neatly kept cottages draped with bougainvillea and oleander line narrow streets. The economy is based largely on tourism with bonefishing the primary attraction. We wandered the town, bought provisions, stopped at the Captain Roland Roberts House Museum and Environmental Center, and ate grouper and fries at the Wrecking Tree Café; sampling the ‘Wrecker’, their signature drink consisting of a variety of tropical juices, including mango, coconut, and pineapple with a liberal dose of rum. Green Turtle Cay had thoughtfully arranged a lunar eclipse and a clear sky Wednesday night and we spent several hours lying on deck as the moon gradually darkened to a ghostly gray smudge then reappeared in all her splendor to the accompaniment of crowing roosters.
Our journey through the Abacos from Old Bahamas Marina, West End to Great Guana Cay took 6 days of truly magnificent sailing; stopping each evening before dark in sheltered anchorages . With steady winds and protected waters Live Now performed wonderfully reaching nearly 8 knots with an easy, ‘sit your drink anywhere’ motion. The smoother seas and gentler motion prompted Pat to ‘kick the habit’ joining DA (Dramaminaholics Anonymous) and enjoying most days sitting upright. We continueds to marvel at the clarity and color of the water and with at least 4 feet under the keel and open water, experienced trouble-free cruising. To our surprise, we found ourselves virtually alone on the water. We went whole days without seeing another boat. Still, the low lying, mangrove covered cays and cloudy skies did not match the Bahamas of our mind’s eye. As we circled southwest, sand covered shore and palm trees began to appear but it wasn’t until Great Guana Cay that we felt we had arrived.
Our resident beach expert, Ken, proclaimed Great Guana Cay as one of the best. He’s not alone. Those who rate such things have determined that this is one of the top 10 beaches in the world! I had to agree, having had little exposure to sandy beaches. My shore side experience has been largely confined to New England where heavy hiking boots are the suggested footwear when walking the typically rock strewn beaches. Here, the white sand is powder fine. Three bands of reefs parallel the shore out to about 1 mile to the coral breakwater. Colorful coral-dwelling fish are found in waist deep water right off the beach. Ken and I snorkeled away the afternoon while Pat relaxed on the nearly deserted beach. Our paradise was made even more idyllic when Ken found a ripe coconut and a.k.a. Survival Man opened it for us to sample. If only the Barefoot Man were here to entertain us, life would have been complete. But, alas, he was not to arrive until March, so we’re off to Treasure Cay; a ½ day sail to another one of the top ten beaches in the world (a google on top ten beaches finds 1,154 beaches are among the top ten).
After weighing anchor at Fox Town, Tuesday morning, we had a great day of sailing and entered the harbor to anchor in White Sound, Green Turtle Cay, adjacent to the port of New Plymouth. New Plymouth was founded in 1786 by American Loyalists, who opposed the American War for Independence. Pastel, neatly kept cottages draped with bougainvillea and oleander line narrow streets. The economy is based largely on tourism with bonefishing the primary attraction. We wandered the town, bought provisions, stopped at the Captain Roland Roberts House Museum and Environmental Center, and ate grouper and fries at the Wrecking Tree Café; sampling the ‘Wrecker’, their signature drink consisting of a variety of tropical juices, including mango, coconut, and pineapple with a liberal dose of rum. Green Turtle Cay had thoughtfully arranged a lunar eclipse and a clear sky Wednesday night and we spent several hours lying on deck as the moon gradually darkened to a ghostly gray smudge then reappeared in all her splendor to the accompaniment of crowing roosters.
Our journey through the Abacos from Old Bahamas Marina, West End to Great Guana Cay took 6 days of truly magnificent sailing; stopping each evening before dark in sheltered anchorages . With steady winds and protected waters Live Now performed wonderfully reaching nearly 8 knots with an easy, ‘sit your drink anywhere’ motion. The smoother seas and gentler motion prompted Pat to ‘kick the habit’ joining DA (Dramaminaholics Anonymous) and enjoying most days sitting upright. We continueds to marvel at the clarity and color of the water and with at least 4 feet under the keel and open water, experienced trouble-free cruising. To our surprise, we found ourselves virtually alone on the water. We went whole days without seeing another boat. Still, the low lying, mangrove covered cays and cloudy skies did not match the Bahamas of our mind’s eye. As we circled southwest, sand covered shore and palm trees began to appear but it wasn’t until Great Guana Cay that we felt we had arrived.
Our resident beach expert, Ken, proclaimed Great Guana Cay as one of the best. He’s not alone. Those who rate such things have determined that this is one of the top 10 beaches in the world! I had to agree, having had little exposure to sandy beaches. My shore side experience has been largely confined to New England where heavy hiking boots are the suggested footwear when walking the typically rock strewn beaches. Here, the white sand is powder fine. Three bands of reefs parallel the shore out to about 1 mile to the coral breakwater. Colorful coral-dwelling fish are found in waist deep water right off the beach. Ken and I snorkeled away the afternoon while Pat relaxed on the nearly deserted beach. Our paradise was made even more idyllic when Ken found a ripe coconut and a.k.a. Survival Man opened it for us to sample. If only the Barefoot Man were here to entertain us, life would have been complete. But, alas, he was not to arrive until March, so we’re off to Treasure Cay; a ½ day sail to another one of the top ten beaches in the world (a google on top ten beaches finds 1,154 beaches are among the top ten).
Easing Into Paradise
Two days in the Bahamas found ourselves ill-disposed to move on. Psychologically, we were already on island time. I noticed Ken already darker by several shades was picking up the local accent with alacrity. We also discovered that we really didn’t have a plan and we needed time to just stop, decompress and decide where and what to do. Our focus to date had been getting here.
West End, our port of entry, consists solely of the Old Bahama Marina: two restaurants (one expensive and the other very expensive), a bungalow style hotel, a bar, a pool, a gift shop, a customs office and a fuel dock. You get an unhurried feeling as you stroll the landscaped grounds, check out the gift shop and wander into the restaurant with no waiting, no reservations needed. A woman passes our outdoor table selling Bahamian bread. Charter Sport Fishing boats clean up after a day on the water, their underwater lights attracting squid (perhaps to become the calamari we see on the menu). There seem to be few tourists. The marina hosts more visitors than the hotel and a good number of the slips are empty.
The hotel has Internet, providing one of the few sources of good weather information. You can pick up some weather information from the US National Weather Service broadcast on VHF Channels 1, 2 or 3 but reception is spotty. The Bahamas does not have a comparable weather service. Most cruisers rely on Cruiser Net, a weather and cruising information service that broadcasts every morning at 8:15 on VHF Channel 68. We tuned in Sunday morning to silence. Later that morning, another cruiser told us that Bob Toler, who, with his wife, Patti, hosted the broadcast for 15 years, died suddenly only days before. He will be greatly missed. With no knowledge of the area and its weather patterns, I hoped to gleam information from other cruisers with more experience. However, everyone we meet seems to be no better informed that we. The forecast calls for 15 to 20 knot winds out of the south for Monday, 10 to 15 Tuesday morning and shifting NNE, Tuesday afternoon then clocking around to the SSE later in the week. We decide to leave the next day, timing our departure to get a rising tide as we approach the shallow waters north of Sand Cay. We plan to stop at Mangrove Cay Monday night, then head NE to Double Breasted Cay and Grand Cay Tuesday.
We left our slip at Old Bahama Marina with the assistance of a friendly passerby and headed out to the Atlantic. Our route that would take us just south of Memory Rock then turning NE for a beam reach sail NNE to Mangrove Cay. The direct route would be too shallow. The calm waters of the harbour gave way to tumultuous seas as we exited the inlet making our 5 NM ocean passage to Memory Rock uncomfortable. However, turning to starboard and our destination put us on a steady 15-20 knot wind on the beam and we sailed under mizzen, yankee and staysail in the more protected waters of the Little Bahama Bank. Coming in off the ocean with 300 foot depths to the Bank at 15 feet gets the adrenalin going! Sand banks just under the water greet you on either side of your course and you check and double check you position and heading, anxiously watching the depth meter as you course along at 5 or 6 knots.
In the afternoon, rain poured down, limiting visibility but the sailing was marvelous. We made only one tact all day and rounded up behind the aptly named Mangrove Cay (pronounced ‘key’). From a distance, Mangrove Cay looks like a substantial little island, up close you realize that it is only a small clutch of straggly mangroves, probably with no solid land at all. The lee of the Cay, however, provided protection from the wind and we had a peaceful night, our anchor light the only intrusion into a natural world.
An early start and a favorable wind made for terrific progress toward Fox Town, our next stop. The wind had dropped to 10-15 knots and had moved SSE. Sailing east ‘full and by’ under overcast skies in calm seas we enjoyed a fantastic, relaxing day. We saw no other boats and we flew along at 6, 7 knots! Some may think that 7 or 8 miles per hour doesn’t meet the test for ‘flying’ but for our full keeled, 25 ton Live Now it felt like flying. Only small adjustments to the sails brought us the rocks just off Hawksbill Cay and Fox Town in the late afternoon. Sailing directions for entering the anchorage here call for you to turn south leaving rocks to the west of the Hawksbill to port. The rocks are marked with the only navigation aid in the area, a tire sitting atop a pole! Sure enough, after much searching and circling we spotted the tire and 4' pole and made our turn. With Pat at the chart and watching the depth meter and I at the bow spotting, Ken did a masterful job of bringing us safely to anchor in 10 feet of water just between Hawksbill and Fox Town. With the exception of the gray skies, this had been a wonderful day of sailing. With not a single other boat within sight we enjoyed the solitude, congratulated ourselves on our success and settled down to watch the sky turn red as the sun set.
Hawksbill.
Having been out of touch with family for several days, we wanted to make a call to the States. Ken found a pay phone that worked and tried unsuccessfully to make a call. Soon several people appeared and offered help, including an offer to give him a ride to the BaTelCo, the telephone company, office about 200 yards away. Only ATT and Cingular phone cards work with the telephones so he was not able to make the call.
With no good snorkeling or beach opportunities apparent, we decided to leave early the next day for Green Turtle Cay. Green Turtle Cay includes a sizable town, numerous restaurants and marinas and reportedly has wonderful beaches and snorkeling. Our journey southeast will lead us from the more remote, undeveloped portion of the Bahamas to the more popular tourist destinations.
West End, our port of entry, consists solely of the Old Bahama Marina: two restaurants (one expensive and the other very expensive), a bungalow style hotel, a bar, a pool, a gift shop, a customs office and a fuel dock. You get an unhurried feeling as you stroll the landscaped grounds, check out the gift shop and wander into the restaurant with no waiting, no reservations needed. A woman passes our outdoor table selling Bahamian bread. Charter Sport Fishing boats clean up after a day on the water, their underwater lights attracting squid (perhaps to become the calamari we see on the menu). There seem to be few tourists. The marina hosts more visitors than the hotel and a good number of the slips are empty.
The hotel has Internet, providing one of the few sources of good weather information. You can pick up some weather information from the US National Weather Service broadcast on VHF Channels 1, 2 or 3 but reception is spotty. The Bahamas does not have a comparable weather service. Most cruisers rely on Cruiser Net, a weather and cruising information service that broadcasts every morning at 8:15 on VHF Channel 68. We tuned in Sunday morning to silence. Later that morning, another cruiser told us that Bob Toler, who, with his wife, Patti, hosted the broadcast for 15 years, died suddenly only days before. He will be greatly missed. With no knowledge of the area and its weather patterns, I hoped to gleam information from other cruisers with more experience. However, everyone we meet seems to be no better informed that we. The forecast calls for 15 to 20 knot winds out of the south for Monday, 10 to 15 Tuesday morning and shifting NNE, Tuesday afternoon then clocking around to the SSE later in the week. We decide to leave the next day, timing our departure to get a rising tide as we approach the shallow waters north of Sand Cay. We plan to stop at Mangrove Cay Monday night, then head NE to Double Breasted Cay and Grand Cay Tuesday.
We left our slip at Old Bahama Marina with the assistance of a friendly passerby and headed out to the Atlantic. Our route that would take us just south of Memory Rock then turning NE for a beam reach sail NNE to Mangrove Cay. The direct route would be too shallow. The calm waters of the harbour gave way to tumultuous seas as we exited the inlet making our 5 NM ocean passage to Memory Rock uncomfortable. However, turning to starboard and our destination put us on a steady 15-20 knot wind on the beam and we sailed under mizzen, yankee and staysail in the more protected waters of the Little Bahama Bank. Coming in off the ocean with 300 foot depths to the Bank at 15 feet gets the adrenalin going! Sand banks just under the water greet you on either side of your course and you check and double check you position and heading, anxiously watching the depth meter as you course along at 5 or 6 knots.
In the afternoon, rain poured down, limiting visibility but the sailing was marvelous. We made only one tact all day and rounded up behind the aptly named Mangrove Cay (pronounced ‘key’). From a distance, Mangrove Cay looks like a substantial little island, up close you realize that it is only a small clutch of straggly mangroves, probably with no solid land at all. The lee of the Cay, however, provided protection from the wind and we had a peaceful night, our anchor light the only intrusion into a natural world.
An early start and a favorable wind made for terrific progress toward Fox Town, our next stop. The wind had dropped to 10-15 knots and had moved SSE. Sailing east ‘full and by’ under overcast skies in calm seas we enjoyed a fantastic, relaxing day. We saw no other boats and we flew along at 6, 7 knots! Some may think that 7 or 8 miles per hour doesn’t meet the test for ‘flying’ but for our full keeled, 25 ton Live Now it felt like flying. Only small adjustments to the sails brought us the rocks just off Hawksbill Cay and Fox Town in the late afternoon. Sailing directions for entering the anchorage here call for you to turn south leaving rocks to the west of the Hawksbill to port. The rocks are marked with the only navigation aid in the area, a tire sitting atop a pole! Sure enough, after much searching and circling we spotted the tire and 4' pole and made our turn. With Pat at the chart and watching the depth meter and I at the bow spotting, Ken did a masterful job of bringing us safely to anchor in 10 feet of water just between Hawksbill and Fox Town. With the exception of the gray skies, this had been a wonderful day of sailing. With not a single other boat within sight we enjoyed the solitude, congratulated ourselves on our success and settled down to watch the sky turn red as the sun set.
Hawksbill.
Having been out of touch with family for several days, we wanted to make a call to the States. Ken found a pay phone that worked and tried unsuccessfully to make a call. Soon several people appeared and offered help, including an offer to give him a ride to the BaTelCo, the telephone company, office about 200 yards away. Only ATT and Cingular phone cards work with the telephones so he was not able to make the call.
With no good snorkeling or beach opportunities apparent, we decided to leave early the next day for Green Turtle Cay. Green Turtle Cay includes a sizable town, numerous restaurants and marinas and reportedly has wonderful beaches and snorkeling. Our journey southeast will lead us from the more remote, undeveloped portion of the Bahamas to the more popular tourist destinations.
Jupiter to the West End, the Bahamas
Dragging ourselves from the lap of luxury, we departed Admiral's Cove, Friday, February 15. Lake Worth, just a few miles south, offers an excellent anchorage and jumping off point for the Bahamas. By late afternoon, we were securely anchored near the Inlet and just north of Palm Beach. A midnight departure would put us off the coast of the Bahamas by midday Saturday. After an early dinner we slept. Weighing anchor around 12:00 am we were passing the RW buoy by 1:00 am and on our way! Moderate east winds forced us to motor but the seas were fairly calm and we moved comfortably along. Pat had taken precaution against seasickness by using the "patch", taking a couple of dramamine and putting acupressure wrist bands on then went sleep in the cockpit. She awoke to find us far offshore and only hours away from landfall. From Lake Worth, West End on Grand Bahama lies only about 60 nm away. With the headwind we made slow but steady progress. We steered a course south of the rhumb line and got a push from the gulf stream as we angled north toward our goal.
Midmorning brought the water tower near Old Bahama Marina into view. By 1:00 pm we entered the harbor. I understood from the guide that we could anchor just outside the entrance to the marina and learned only after getting the anchor set and reporting to customs & immigration that that was not allowed. So, duely chastised, I returned to the boat, filled out all the required forms and called in for a slip assignment.
Old Bahama Marina is a fairly new resort and the only facility at West End. Beautifully landscapted cottages, two restaurants, a bar, a pool, a gift shop and a wide range of water activities make for a relaxing entry into this our first foreign country to visit. We spent the rest of the day relaxing, walking around the marina, making plans for the next leg and accomodating our minds to this new experience.
Sunday, we took the dinghy out to explore and ended up beaching it on a sand cay near the marina entrance. Conch shells, crabs, white sand and tropical waters dazzled us as we ate a picnic lunch in the solitude of this wonderful place.
Tuesday we head to Double Breasted Cay via Sale Cay. Without internet on the boat (Verizon service is not available), we will be updating the blog only when we stop at a marina.
Midmorning brought the water tower near Old Bahama Marina into view. By 1:00 pm we entered the harbor. I understood from the guide that we could anchor just outside the entrance to the marina and learned only after getting the anchor set and reporting to customs & immigration that that was not allowed. So, duely chastised, I returned to the boat, filled out all the required forms and called in for a slip assignment.
Old Bahama Marina is a fairly new resort and the only facility at West End. Beautifully landscapted cottages, two restaurants, a bar, a pool, a gift shop and a wide range of water activities make for a relaxing entry into this our first foreign country to visit. We spent the rest of the day relaxing, walking around the marina, making plans for the next leg and accomodating our minds to this new experience.
Sunday, we took the dinghy out to explore and ended up beaching it on a sand cay near the marina entrance. Conch shells, crabs, white sand and tropical waters dazzled us as we ate a picnic lunch in the solitude of this wonderful place.
Tuesday we head to Double Breasted Cay via Sale Cay. Without internet on the boat (Verizon service is not available), we will be updating the blog only when we stop at a marina.
The ICW Gets One More Shot
On Wednesday morning, a howling south wind and overcast skies confirmed the wisdom of our intention to stay on the Intra-coastal Waterway (ICW) rather than sail down the coast. Pat had recovered sufficiently from her seasickness to get us to 'dinghy' into town to pick up a pizza for dinner the night before and she reported for light duty as we weighed anchor. Even though we had not intended to stop at Ft. Pierce, it had been a profitable layover. A nearby grocery store and West Marine gave us a chance to resupply. In addition, when we awoke on Tuesday morning, we found S/V Fandango with David, Donna and their daughter, Margo, anchored near us. Pat and I had met them in Beaufort, NC several weeks ago and enjoyed catching up on their adventures.
The ICW along this part of the coast presents serious challenges to boats drawing more than 4 feet. It’s narrow and shallow with areas of open water and too few channel markers. We draw 5.5' and had to wait for a rising tide before weighing anchor to avoid grounding. Several places along the way we found ourselves in shallow water even though we were clearly in the channel. The 20+ knot winds didn’t make it any easier. We made good progress, however, passing through highly developed, expensive residential areas, clearing numerous bascule bridges and dodging flotillas of dinghy racers. We moved in and out of rain storms all afternoon and an hour from Jupiter we were slammed by a rain storm that reduced visibility to 100 feet. Without warning, we found ourselves aground in an area that should have had plenty of water! Just before the grounding we had noticed a Sea Tow vessel slowly following us. Now we knew why. He immediately pulled up beside to negotiate a price for pulling us off. After a brief discussion, however, he volunteered that his depth sounder showed 6'. Since he was tied up beside us that meant we were apparently right on the edge of the channel. I worked the boat back and forth, while Sea Tow waited patiently. Finally, we were floating again; saving us a couple of hundred dollars.
Having done its worst, the weather relented. The skies cleared, the sun came out and the wind died as we followed the ICW through a beautiful nature preserve to Admiral’s Cove Marina in Jupiter.
Vicki Pollitt ney Martin, a childhood friend, had arranged for us to stay at Admiral’s Cove where her husband, Bobby, a professional golfer, runs the golfing operation for this members only, gated, ‘celebrity class’ residential resort. Nothing in our experience compares with this luxurious facility. We pulled into our assigned slip around 6:00 pm, greeted by staffmember, Tim, and found ourselves parked between two super mega-yachts. From our deck you could only see sheer hull rising to either side. Our slip was so long you could almost have put another vessel our size behind us! Even though Admiral’s Cove only ranks 4th in the nation among resorts, we managed to have a pretty good time. If they had a cemetery, you would never have to leave this place. The staff was great and went out of their way to make sure we were taken care of. The worst offense you can commit at The Cove, as we habitues like to call it, is to do something for yourself. We learned this the hard way when Pat made arrangements on her own to rent a car. "No! No! No! We take care of that. Let me get the door. Would you like me to cut your steak for you?" After a while I expected someone to hand me a towel as I stepped from the shower ("No, that's okay, I can wash my back myself, thanks")! We had a great time observing the lifestyles of the rich and famous but concluded that while having someone arrange to have your every whim and need met might have some advantages, it would definitively take some getting used to. Staying there was a welcome break and we really enjoyed meeting Bobby and catching up with Vicki. It had been over 30 years since we had met. Our conversation started with, "So, after high school...."
Our stop in Jupiter also gave us a chance to have a great visit with my cousin Joyce and my Aunt Marcia. Marcia recently celebrated her 90th birthday and seems ageless with her taking spanish classes and writing a book. I tried to get her sign up for our little cruise but she declined. Probably too busy. Joyce, on the other hand, may be ready to take the plunge (probably another bad choice of words).
Now it's on to Lake Worth, Florida and crossing the stream to the Bahamas! We'll leave at midnight so that we arrive during the day. Our Verizon cell phone will not work and we won't have internet connections except when staying at a marina, so it may be some time before the blog will be updated.
The ICW along this part of the coast presents serious challenges to boats drawing more than 4 feet. It’s narrow and shallow with areas of open water and too few channel markers. We draw 5.5' and had to wait for a rising tide before weighing anchor to avoid grounding. Several places along the way we found ourselves in shallow water even though we were clearly in the channel. The 20+ knot winds didn’t make it any easier. We made good progress, however, passing through highly developed, expensive residential areas, clearing numerous bascule bridges and dodging flotillas of dinghy racers. We moved in and out of rain storms all afternoon and an hour from Jupiter we were slammed by a rain storm that reduced visibility to 100 feet. Without warning, we found ourselves aground in an area that should have had plenty of water! Just before the grounding we had noticed a Sea Tow vessel slowly following us. Now we knew why. He immediately pulled up beside to negotiate a price for pulling us off. After a brief discussion, however, he volunteered that his depth sounder showed 6'. Since he was tied up beside us that meant we were apparently right on the edge of the channel. I worked the boat back and forth, while Sea Tow waited patiently. Finally, we were floating again; saving us a couple of hundred dollars.
Having done its worst, the weather relented. The skies cleared, the sun came out and the wind died as we followed the ICW through a beautiful nature preserve to Admiral’s Cove Marina in Jupiter.
Vicki Pollitt ney Martin, a childhood friend, had arranged for us to stay at Admiral’s Cove where her husband, Bobby, a professional golfer, runs the golfing operation for this members only, gated, ‘celebrity class’ residential resort. Nothing in our experience compares with this luxurious facility. We pulled into our assigned slip around 6:00 pm, greeted by staffmember, Tim, and found ourselves parked between two super mega-yachts. From our deck you could only see sheer hull rising to either side. Our slip was so long you could almost have put another vessel our size behind us! Even though Admiral’s Cove only ranks 4th in the nation among resorts, we managed to have a pretty good time. If they had a cemetery, you would never have to leave this place. The staff was great and went out of their way to make sure we were taken care of. The worst offense you can commit at The Cove, as we habitues like to call it, is to do something for yourself. We learned this the hard way when Pat made arrangements on her own to rent a car. "No! No! No! We take care of that. Let me get the door. Would you like me to cut your steak for you?" After a while I expected someone to hand me a towel as I stepped from the shower ("No, that's okay, I can wash my back myself, thanks")! We had a great time observing the lifestyles of the rich and famous but concluded that while having someone arrange to have your every whim and need met might have some advantages, it would definitively take some getting used to. Staying there was a welcome break and we really enjoyed meeting Bobby and catching up with Vicki. It had been over 30 years since we had met. Our conversation started with, "So, after high school...."
Our stop in Jupiter also gave us a chance to have a great visit with my cousin Joyce and my Aunt Marcia. Marcia recently celebrated her 90th birthday and seems ageless with her taking spanish classes and writing a book. I tried to get her sign up for our little cruise but she declined. Probably too busy. Joyce, on the other hand, may be ready to take the plunge (probably another bad choice of words).
Now it's on to Lake Worth, Florida and crossing the stream to the Bahamas! We'll leave at midnight so that we arrive during the day. Our Verizon cell phone will not work and we won't have internet connections except when staying at a marina, so it may be some time before the blog will be updated.
Other Than That, How'd You Enjoy the Sail, Mrs. Hambrick?
We exited St. Augustine's Bridge of the Lions at 9:30 am Saturday, February 9th, rounded the RW "STA" Buoy, and set sail to Lake Worth; our last stop before crossing the stream to the Bahamas. With my brother, Ken, aboard, we had a crew of 3; greatly easing watch-keeping over the 50 hour sail. The seas were calm and the winds 5-10 knots out of the north. Pat armed with her newly acquired transdermal scopolamine patch handled the moderate seas with aplomb and no sign of seasickness.
With all sail set, we moved gently along under clear skies and warm temperatures. This was our first true sail since the leg from Cape May to Ocean City and it was heavenly. Our autohelm kept a good course leaving the three of us free to enjoy the day: reading, talking politics, and soaking up the sun. Sailing slowly at 3 or 4 knots fit our need to arrive at the Lake Worth Inlet with the morning light on Monday. We sailed all day, paralleling the coast about 5 miles offshore.
Pat turned in after a light dinner and Ken and I enjoyed the early evening, making slight sail and course adjustments. The wind had picked up slightly and the seas were running 3 to 4 feet. A stunning sunset preceeded the darkness and Ken turned in while I took the first watch. Around 2:00 am, Ken and I prepared to jibe. Almost immediately, the wind jumped to the high teens, gusting to 20 knots. The process of jibbing with the increasing wind caused considerable corkscrewing as we accelerated down 5-7' waves at 7 knots. Almost before we had come to our new tack, Pat came up the companionway, jolted out out a sound sleep. "I'm going to be sick!". And she was. Once again, Pat suffered the 'mal de mare'. We tried sailing off the wind to lessen the motion, but it was too late. We sailed all night in 20 knot winds out of the NNE moving gradually off shore. When we reached deeper water the seas moderated and with it the motion. However, this didn't help Pat at all and she remainded in her berth the rest of the trip.
The day dawned bright and breezy, moving the boat at 6-7 knots per hour. Beautiful deep green seas, an occasional white cap and blue skies became a stage when dozens of dolphin suddenly appeared. For hours they swam alongside, riding the bow wave, diving under the boat, smacking the water with their tails and jumping completely out of the water. You couldn't help but get the impression that their sole intent was to entertain us. Ken and I never tired of watching them. Only Pat's incapacity detracted from the best sailing day of the trip.
Our route south took us past Cape Canaveral and the Kennedy Space Center, the Space Shuttle gantries clearly visible in the distance. Into our second night, it became clear that Pat was not going to feel better as long as we were on the water, so we decided to divert toward Ft Pierce rather than continue to Lake Worth. This would require a night entry but enable us to be in protected waters by midnight. The Ft Pierce inlet is straight forward, wide, deep and well marked. Still, night time navigation presents considerable challenges, especially on a moonless night. Which of those flashing red and green lights marks the channel as we stare at a shoreline filled with an array of flashing lights. With no depth perception and no horizon, it can be very difficult. Nevertheless, Ken and I approached the inlet and picked our way toward the channel.
Ken was at the helm as I stood on the bow with my flashlight. Well into the channel marked by a rock breakwater, I suddenly saw churnning white water to port. My flashlight beam passed over rocks dead ahead! We seemed only seconds from crashing into the seawall! I shouted to Ken, "Turn right, turn right!" "Turn right?" he questioned. "Back, back! Turn right!" Ken slammed the boat into reverse and backed at full throttle. Slowly Live Now's forward motion stopped and she begin to back to starboard. Ken, seeing only the seawall on our right side, thought that I had mistakenly said 'right' when I meant 'left'. Turning right, pointed us at what he saw as certain disaster. With little sleep and exhaustion, an error such as this on my part could easily be made. So, with increasing and louder insistence and over his equally strennuous objections, we backed off, turned the boat and held position until we could figure out what to do. Reoriented we moved slowly down the middle of the channel to safety. On reflection, I am not sure now if we were as close as I thought to the breakwater. The churning, white water could have been the tide running out or, we could have been moments from ending our trip!
So, with adrenaline pumping and hearts beating, we entered Ft Pierce and heading up the river to find an anchorage. Several other boats were anchored but were hardly visible through our salt encrusted windscreen. After several passes through the anchorage, we found a suitable spot, dropped anchor, regained our composure and went to bed.
With all sail set, we moved gently along under clear skies and warm temperatures. This was our first true sail since the leg from Cape May to Ocean City and it was heavenly. Our autohelm kept a good course leaving the three of us free to enjoy the day: reading, talking politics, and soaking up the sun. Sailing slowly at 3 or 4 knots fit our need to arrive at the Lake Worth Inlet with the morning light on Monday. We sailed all day, paralleling the coast about 5 miles offshore.
Pat turned in after a light dinner and Ken and I enjoyed the early evening, making slight sail and course adjustments. The wind had picked up slightly and the seas were running 3 to 4 feet. A stunning sunset preceeded the darkness and Ken turned in while I took the first watch. Around 2:00 am, Ken and I prepared to jibe. Almost immediately, the wind jumped to the high teens, gusting to 20 knots. The process of jibbing with the increasing wind caused considerable corkscrewing as we accelerated down 5-7' waves at 7 knots. Almost before we had come to our new tack, Pat came up the companionway, jolted out out a sound sleep. "I'm going to be sick!". And she was. Once again, Pat suffered the 'mal de mare'. We tried sailing off the wind to lessen the motion, but it was too late. We sailed all night in 20 knot winds out of the NNE moving gradually off shore. When we reached deeper water the seas moderated and with it the motion. However, this didn't help Pat at all and she remainded in her berth the rest of the trip.
The day dawned bright and breezy, moving the boat at 6-7 knots per hour. Beautiful deep green seas, an occasional white cap and blue skies became a stage when dozens of dolphin suddenly appeared. For hours they swam alongside, riding the bow wave, diving under the boat, smacking the water with their tails and jumping completely out of the water. You couldn't help but get the impression that their sole intent was to entertain us. Ken and I never tired of watching them. Only Pat's incapacity detracted from the best sailing day of the trip.
Our route south took us past Cape Canaveral and the Kennedy Space Center, the Space Shuttle gantries clearly visible in the distance. Into our second night, it became clear that Pat was not going to feel better as long as we were on the water, so we decided to divert toward Ft Pierce rather than continue to Lake Worth. This would require a night entry but enable us to be in protected waters by midnight. The Ft Pierce inlet is straight forward, wide, deep and well marked. Still, night time navigation presents considerable challenges, especially on a moonless night. Which of those flashing red and green lights marks the channel as we stare at a shoreline filled with an array of flashing lights. With no depth perception and no horizon, it can be very difficult. Nevertheless, Ken and I approached the inlet and picked our way toward the channel.
Ken was at the helm as I stood on the bow with my flashlight. Well into the channel marked by a rock breakwater, I suddenly saw churnning white water to port. My flashlight beam passed over rocks dead ahead! We seemed only seconds from crashing into the seawall! I shouted to Ken, "Turn right, turn right!" "Turn right?" he questioned. "Back, back! Turn right!" Ken slammed the boat into reverse and backed at full throttle. Slowly Live Now's forward motion stopped and she begin to back to starboard. Ken, seeing only the seawall on our right side, thought that I had mistakenly said 'right' when I meant 'left'. Turning right, pointed us at what he saw as certain disaster. With little sleep and exhaustion, an error such as this on my part could easily be made. So, with increasing and louder insistence and over his equally strennuous objections, we backed off, turned the boat and held position until we could figure out what to do. Reoriented we moved slowly down the middle of the channel to safety. On reflection, I am not sure now if we were as close as I thought to the breakwater. The churning, white water could have been the tide running out or, we could have been moments from ending our trip!
So, with adrenaline pumping and hearts beating, we entered Ft Pierce and heading up the river to find an anchorage. Several other boats were anchored but were hardly visible through our salt encrusted windscreen. After several passes through the anchorage, we found a suitable spot, dropped anchor, regained our composure and went to bed.
Fixin' to Leave St. Augustine
St. Augustine claims to be the oldest European city in the United States and I believe it: nowhere will you find so dense a concentration of ambulatory old people! I suspect a number of the original inhabitants still walk the streets, frequent the shops and search their purses for coupons in the grocery store 'express' check out lanes. Actually, it's a wonderful place. Founded in 1565, much of the old city remains and there are many nice restaurants, interesting shops and people. There's even a Woman's Exchange. I took Pat there but the models available for exhange were not in very good condition and none could sail.
Our time here has been divided between working on our 28 item 'todo' list, eating out and visiting relatives and friends. The 'todo' list is down to 26 items (do one add two) but we are making significant progress. The biggest problem to address has been our generator. It ran beautifully but we couldn't get it to run our refrigeration system. After numerous attempts on our own and a precipitious descent into "reefer madness", we gave up and called in a professional. Two and 1/2 hours and two hundred dollars later--success! And just in time: my brother, Ken, arrives today and now we can have cold beer (a requirement for his signing on)! We also addressed a troublesome leak where the stern cap rail joins the hull, patched up a bad place on the teak deck, and refitted the windlass. Now that my brother is joining us we expect to make terrific progress on the many repairs and upgrades needed. Varnishing, scrubbing the decks (I think 'swabbing' may be the more appropriate term), and wire brushing the anchor chain make up a fun filled agenda. There's nothing like cleaning the bilge to make those idle hours all the more rewarding! If you are thinking of joining us and fear we'll run out of boat work, do not be dismayed, there's plenty to go around.
In addition to working on the boat, we had the great pleasure of having dinner with my cousin Ellen and her husband, Bob; visiting our friends, June and Terry Rainwater; and swinging by Orlando for a brief but enjoyable visit with my cousin Mike and his wife, Katherine. Terry introduced me to the intricacies of shuffleboard. Having retired several years ago, he has had time to hone his skill in this deceptively challenging and much maligned sport with its 'hides', 'drifts' and 'clearing shots'. We owe special thanks to our new friend, Bill, of Momento Mori, fellow Bahamas-bound cruiser, who kept an eye on our boat while we were gone.
We plan to finish as much work on the boat as possible over the next several days, then head south to the Ft. Lauderdale area. The wind is out of the south through today but should turn favorable tomorrow. On the other hand, there's a Blues Festival here Friday and I could be talked into staying put until then.
Our time here has been divided between working on our 28 item 'todo' list, eating out and visiting relatives and friends. The 'todo' list is down to 26 items (do one add two) but we are making significant progress. The biggest problem to address has been our generator. It ran beautifully but we couldn't get it to run our refrigeration system. After numerous attempts on our own and a precipitious descent into "reefer madness", we gave up and called in a professional. Two and 1/2 hours and two hundred dollars later--success! And just in time: my brother, Ken, arrives today and now we can have cold beer (a requirement for his signing on)! We also addressed a troublesome leak where the stern cap rail joins the hull, patched up a bad place on the teak deck, and refitted the windlass. Now that my brother is joining us we expect to make terrific progress on the many repairs and upgrades needed. Varnishing, scrubbing the decks (I think 'swabbing' may be the more appropriate term), and wire brushing the anchor chain make up a fun filled agenda. There's nothing like cleaning the bilge to make those idle hours all the more rewarding! If you are thinking of joining us and fear we'll run out of boat work, do not be dismayed, there's plenty to go around.
In addition to working on the boat, we had the great pleasure of having dinner with my cousin Ellen and her husband, Bob; visiting our friends, June and Terry Rainwater; and swinging by Orlando for a brief but enjoyable visit with my cousin Mike and his wife, Katherine. Terry introduced me to the intricacies of shuffleboard. Having retired several years ago, he has had time to hone his skill in this deceptively challenging and much maligned sport with its 'hides', 'drifts' and 'clearing shots'. We owe special thanks to our new friend, Bill, of Momento Mori, fellow Bahamas-bound cruiser, who kept an eye on our boat while we were gone.
We plan to finish as much work on the boat as possible over the next several days, then head south to the Ft. Lauderdale area. The wind is out of the south through today but should turn favorable tomorrow. On the other hand, there's a Blues Festival here Friday and I could be talked into staying put until then.
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