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You are welcome to apply any part of this article to your own personal use. Please do NOT publish any part of the article or apply any part of it to any non-personal use without the express written concent of the author.
It's Wednesday morning. One week ago we left for the Bahamas from our dock in Ft. Lauderdale.
We were too pooped to stage even the short distance to Lake Sylvia, a scant mile away. Last-minute preparations took much out of us. But with a short afternoon nap before the last flurry of activity and an evening nap, we were awake and ready for our departure at 0100, Wednesday, May 14.
It took another hour or so to get all the umbilicals unhooked from shore and properly stowed, and to move our car to a neighbor's parking spot. Having given up our dock with its own parking spot, we've also given up our parking spot. Shortly after 0200 we were finally ready to cast off.
It was a very quiet night in Ft. Lauderdale - most sane people were still snug in their beds. The moon was nearly full and provided great light as we motored quietly down the canal to the Intracoastal Waterway. The bridge tender at Las Olas Bridge might have been snoozing as we called for an opening, as it took him a bit to respond to our calls. It was the same for the 17th Street Causeway Bridge. We cleared the Port Everglades sea buoy at 0330, motoring directly into the ENE wind.
ENE Wind? The weather report from NOAA (National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration, pronounced: NO-ah) was still calling for winds from the southeast. I guess this is one of those times when they earn their nickname: "Don't NOAA."
The northerly component against the Gulf Stream current made for a lumpy crossing. The direction of the wind was too close to the bow for sailing, which would have made the ride a bit more comfortable. But we were out there and it wasn't the worst conditions we'd experienced in the Gulf Stream. Turning the helm over to our trusty autopilot, "Otto von Steerer," Kit & I took turns keeping watch and sleeping. It was all over in about 12 hours as we arrived at West End, Grand Bahama Island at 1530.
Omygod! Look at the water! How fabulous! We had forgotten how beautiful and clear the water is in the Bahamas. The colors are so fascinating. I recall how we had gotten good at "reading" the water colors to judge depth and bottom type. We're rusty, but we'll have our skill back before the week is out.
Compared to all the hassles we had to clear out of the U.S., clearing in to the Bahamas was a breeze. The agent took maybe 15 minutes total with us, including collecting the $100 fee and issuing our cruising and fishing permits. Minutes later we had left the dock and went out to the anchorage for more naps, a lovely dinner and a good night's rest.
The next morning (Thursday) we were off again, Double-Breasted Cays (pronounced: kees) our destination for the next couple of nightsnight. The wind was light but enough for sailing… at least, for a while. We got out the spinnaker and ran with it for a couple of hours - delightful! And we did some more testing of our new self-steering wind vane, "Styrbjörn von Steerer." It took some fiddling but we finally got him working. There's a little more to do before we're ready for him to handle the helm on a passage (he needs a slightly larger oar in the water), but we're close.
We got into the outside anchorage at Double-Breasted close to 1730, too late to read the water for negotiating our way into any of the inner anchorages. Good light is required to "read" the water. So we spent the night at the outside anchorage. Not bad, but a bit choppy.
When the sun was high enough the next morning (Friday) we worked our way to the inner anchorage behind Sandy Cay. The way in is narrow, lined shoals and rocks. The current is strong and can push the unwarry onto the rocks. The shoals are sandy so the only difficulty there is getting caught. Kit was at the helm and got caught by the current. Fortunately we were pushed onto a shoal where we touched bottom. Backing off, we resumed feeling our way into the inner anchorage and got in without further ado.
After lunch it was time to get into the water and do some snorkeling. Delightful! And I managed to find 4 conch (pronounced: konk). Since the area is supposed to be fished out, we considered ourselves quite fortunate.
We were pleased to meet old friends. One couple, Steve & Karyn, on their new boat, Threshhold, were in the outer anchorage. The other couple, Joe & Pat, were on their boat, Lovepat, in the inner anchorage across Sandy Cay from us. We had shared the anchorage at West End with Lovepat on our arrival night.
Friday morning when the sun was high enough to "read" the water, we negotiated our way back out for motoring across to Hawksbill Cay. Nine years ago we had been at anchor nearby and had heard of the birth of our first grandtyke by SSB radio. Hawksbill Cay was a scant half mile from the settlement of Foxtown on Little Abaco island. We wanted to call 9-year-old Tyler to wish him a happy birthday, and Foxtown had a phone. Suffice to say, Mission Accomplished!
Saturday was a motoring passage to Green Turtle Cay. Since leaving Double-Breasted Cays the wind was either non-existent or right on the nose. We didn't go ashore at Green Turtle - we will have a chance later in the trip.
One of the interesting marks along the way is Center of the World Rock. What's most interesting is its name. If you've always wanted to know where the center of the world lies, it's here in the Abacos.
Sunday morning we negotiated Whale Cay passage. The Sea of Abaco (the shallow waters between the east shore of Great Abaco Island and the outlying barrier cays) has a very shoal area lying east-west across the entire waterway at Whale Cay. The deeper areas in the shoals at low tide might carry only 3 or 4 feet. The middle of the shoal is marked by Dont Rock (as in, "Mon, you DON'T wanna go near dat ROCK!"). For most sailboats the routes across the shoals are too skinny so we have to go outside into the open Atlantic Ocean around Whale Cay. The problem is that in "rage" conditions (swells from storms way out at sea hit the shallows and kick up dangerous breaking waves) the route around Whale Cay can be closed for days at a time. That morning it was doable. The anchorage that night was at Great Guana Cay.
Ashore we found a phone and called Kit's brother, Keith. He will be joining us shortly and we wanted to let him know that we were close enough to meet him at the airport when he arrives. Then it was a stroll around the island and exploring a nice beach. Great Guana has had a lot of development since we were last here, but it's still a quiet place. Quite enjoyable.
We stayed a second night at Great Guana, spending the day catching up on our more domestic chores - laundry being the most important.
Yes, we have laundry facilities aboard Volant. To wash we have a small barrel-shaped container mounted on a frame. A hand crank is used to turn the barrel end-over-end. Once the barrel is loaded with laundry, hot water and detergent are added and the barrel is sealed. When the container is cranked, the laundry is tumbled. Cranking for only a couple of minutes does the job. A hand-cranked wringer squeezes out the soapy water. Returning the laundry to the container with fresh water, more tumbling rinses it. Repeat with wringer and tumbling until all is clean - perhaps 2 or 3 cycles. Then it's hanging it all out on the lifelines to dry. Once we've set up, a single load takes about 20 minutes to wash and hang out to dry. Setting up takes a bit of organizing so we don't do it for just one load. Everything we need has a special place to live and it takes some time to get it all out. We run a hose from the head sink to the cockpit which gives us access to hot water directly from the tap. Then we put the laundry barrel on the main companionway hatch, mount the wringer on the boom gallows just forward of the laundry barrel, and place the lobster pot under the wringer. It's easy to put water into the barrel and crank it in that position. It's easy to transfer articles from the barrel to the wringer. Water from the wringer is collected in the lobster pot, then dumped overboard. It may sound complicated, but it's really quite simple. And, yes, you guessed it. I get to wear the Laundry Crank hat for this operation.
It's now Wednesday morning. We've moved over to Marsh Harbour to pick up Keith right after lunch. And, if I can find an Internet shop I'll try to get this dispatch posted.
Next dispatch: The Hub of Abaco.
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