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.
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!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
