21 March, 2016
Posted by tuck on Wednesday, March 23, 2016 - 21:34

G’day

Well…….Conception Island was a well-worth-it stop.  While we shared the anchorage with 6 other boats on Friday, we were all by our lonesome all day on Saturday.  The island is completely uninhabited, save for the flocks of birds that live here, and we enjoyed a real sense of isolation.  On Saturday morning, we took the dinghy to the south end of the bay, and anchored in 12’ of water, over sand and right next to a coral reef.  We snorkeled the reef, trying to hone our lobster and fish-finding skills.  This island is part of the Land and Sea Park, so it is a “no-take” area.  I figured that since this was the case, we’d find tons of lobster.  Nope.  I’m thinkin’ that we really need to get with a pro so we can learn the ropes, ‘cause I’m sure that there are plenty of bugs in these hidey holes.  I was just starting to feel a little chilly when I caught some movement out of the corner of my left eye.  Suz was on my right, so it got my attention.  I turned my head to see a 6’ Reef Shark swimming toward us.  He stopped, and swam a couple of tight circles about 15 feet from us.  Then, he swam past us at a distance of about 10 feet, and looped back before swimming toward shore over the coral.  Now Suz and I have swum around sharks plenty, most of the time with SCUBA, and they usually pay you no attention, nor are we bothered by their presence.  This guy just didn’t feel right.  We decided that it was time to get out of the water, and we literally swam the 50 yards to the dinghy back-to-back.  We saw no more of our pal.  After a late breakfast on “Alizann”, we headed to shore, and anchored “White Star” 10’ off the beach.  We crossed over to the windward side of the island, and were treated to a mile long, coarse sand beach.  We walked it in total solitude, with the sun high overhead, marveling at the myriad colors of the ocean over the sand and offshore reefs.  Back on our, the leeward side of the island, the sand was finer, and a lighter color.  We walked the shore of our bay from north to south.  The late afternoon was spent reading on deck.  Towards sunset, a sailboat arrived and anchored about a quarter mile away.  Our tender was already stowed on the boat deck, so we didn’t go over to say “Hi”.

By Sunday morning, the swells that had started to roll into the anchorage the day before were becoming quite pronounced.  No matter, we were up early for an 07h00 departure to Cat Island.  We fished for 4 ½ hours before one of the reels started screaming out.  We hooked up, and had a good fight for about 30 seconds, then, not much.  I could still feel a fish on, and I knew this was bad news.  Barracudas hit hard, and go fast, but have no endurance.  They’re totally passive until you get them out of the water to unhook ‘em, then they’re all muscle and teeth.  Yep, Barracuda.  What a pain in the butt.  And………in 1500’ of water.  He musta been lost or something.  After I dehooked him, he was back to the races, and I was ready to call it a day.  The Bight at Cat Island was just around the point, and shallow water was a half hour away.  The seas were predicted to be running out of the East, making the West-facing Bight a perfect anchorage.  Instead, the 3’ waves were coming out of the Southwest, rolling into the Bight, which ran several miles from north to South.  We quickly scrapped Plan A, which was to anchor in New Bight, and motored over the shallow sand to the beach which ran along the southern edge of the Bight.  There, we found that it was still windy, but 100 yards off shore, the swell was negligible.  We spent a quiet afternoon on the boat, the day made almost perfect by spaghetti and meatballs.  The wind died nearly completely, and we had a totally calm night.  Just before dawn, the waves started lapping, and we heard the wind generators start to wind up.  All of a sudden, the motion detector (burglar) alarm went off.  I went to the salon to check things out.  Nobody around, but the flag on the stern was drooping down, and, I believe, set off the alarm (note to self).  Well…..within 10 minutes (literally), the wind was blowing 22, clocking from West to Northwest.  This usually indicates the beginning of a frontal passage here, and a Cold Front had been moving through the Southeast states the day before.  The black clouds to the Northwest, and the light horizon below them told us the Front was here.  We could expect the wind to go to east within 12-18 hours.  We got the anchor up, and headed North to New Bight.  By the time that we arrived an hour later, the wind had subsided to 5 out of the Northnorthwest, so we tucked in tight to the beach and had some breakfast.

Time to explore.  We dropped the dink and headed to shore.  Ha!  No place to tie up.  Just a long beach and no docks.  I beach the dinghy and drop off the Admiral, then anchor just outside the break, and wade in.  I miscalculated the depth by about 6”.  Man, I hate starting a walk with a wet crotch!  I know, T.M.I.  First stop is the police station/post office/island administrator/driver’s license/BaTelco building.  We get the lowdown from a very pleasant officer, and find that the post office has an open internet network.  Yay! I might be able to shoot some of these blogs up.  We walk the shore road up to the North, and spy a bunch of gaily colored shacks on the beach.  None are more than 150 square feet in size.  The signs on them indicate that they’re bars and restaurants.  Most are closed.  It is a full party during Island Regatta week in August. We stop at “Hidden Treasure”, which is open, and is reported by the Cruisers Net to have great seafood.  After checking with the kitchen, we agree to go in for grub before we leave the island, depending on the weather.  Further down the road, we wander into an open door and meet Darlene, the local “bread lady”.  She’s gonna bake us loaves of coconut, cinnamon, and wheat bread that we can pick up in the morning.  A half mile down, we visit Holy Redeemer, the last Catholic church designed and built by Father Jerome before his death (more on F. J. later).  Gilbert’s Grocery (and rent-a-car) is our turning point about a mile-and-a-half down the road.  The mail boat (supplies) comes in on Thursday, but not this Thursday, so we grab a couple of $4 Mangoes, lettuce, eggs, red pepper, and celery-$40.  Yeow!  Suzanne reminds me that this Thursday is Holy Thursday, and that most business (in our experience) will be conducted on restricted hours, or not at all, during Holy Week here in the islands.  The Front arrived before we got home, but it actually felt kinda good walking in the pouring rain, just as my shorts were beginning to dry out. 

17h00.  Time for an iced coffee with rum.

-Later

18 March, 2016
Posted by tuck on Wednesday, March 23, 2016 - 10:47

Wednesday morning didn’t come quick enough.  I was excited about getting some lobsters, and had a lot of stuff to do before we could go. Low tide was at around 10h00.  That meant that our bikes, which had been idle for a while, needed to be unpacked, chains and derailleurs lubed, tires aired up, and luggage racks re-installed, then dropped to the dinghy for their ½ mile ride to the dock.  Snorkel gear needed to be unstowed, and packed in to carryable packages.  Peanut butter toast, and we were on our way by 08h30.  Due to the early low tide, we decided to head to the spot that was only a mile or so from the boat.  Since “everyone” knew about this spot, we figured that we’d maybe only get a bug or two.  After we got the bikes loaded with gear, Suz decided that mine looked like a vehicle out of “Mad Max”, with our spears sticking out over the front tire.  The road out to the beach was a challenge.  The island is comprised of rock, and any unpaved roads (and this is most of them) are surfaced with large sharp rocks, and are deeply rutted, with washed out sand in any depressions.  We had a nice swim, but that was about it.  Figured that the place was “lobstered out”.  We stashed our bikes behind Tyrone’s house, and hotfooted it back to the Girl, as the Georgetown gang had organized a beach cleanup outing for 13h00. 15 or 20 of us made a nice dent in cleaning up a 2-mile stretch of beach on the windward side.  Through our stay this year in the Exumas, we had become very familiar with items from the ill-fated “El Faro”, the freighter that went down with all hands during Hurricane Joaquin in October.  Among other flotsam, we picked up numerous syringes, jars of mayonnaise, yogurt, Axe bodywash, plastic tubes of M&M’s, and roll-on deodorant.  Many of the aerosol cans were nearly decomposed by rust, and there was virtually no glass-just PLASTIC!  It certainly makes you think twice about buying products packaged in this stuff.  There must be a better way.  Back to the boat for a quick wash up, and to shore for the “Closing Ceremonies” at Sou’ Side bar and Grill.  Busy day, so it was an early night for me and the Boss.

Thursday, St. Paddy’s day and we’re on a bug hunt again.  This time, we’re off to David’s secret spot on the windward side of the island opposite McCann settlement.  It’s about a 5 kilometer ride, but since it’s only 0900, the temperature is conducive.  On the way down, we can hear the feral goats in the underbrush next to the road, the kid’s plaintive cries sound so human, it’s eerie.  Once off the main road (and I use this term loosely), we’re confronted with a washed-out two track littered with 3” in diameter, sharp rocks and eroded gashes up to a foot deep which climbs up, angles down to a brackish pond, then climbs back up as it meanders the ¾ of a mile to end on a cliff overlooking the coral reef below.  After taking a few moments to admire the view, we unload the bikes and stash them in the undergrowth.  Next, we’ve got a half mile hike over the razor-sharp coral rocks out to the beach.  This stuff is mucho serious.  One fall, and you’re gonna end up with a cut to the bone.  We’re not really visualizing ourselves being treated for an injury in a third world country, so the going is slow.  Once down to the beach, we’re treated to a mile of desolate sand, and blue, light blue, sorta blue, green, aqua water.  (I think that the Bahamians must have as many words for the water color here as the Inuit have for snow.  The variations never fail to take your breath away).  Not a soul in sight, and no sounds indicating the presence of other humans.  Full of anticipation, we pull on our diveskins, snorkels, and fins and embark on our small game hunt on to the uncharted reef.  Two hours later, as the tide starts coming back in, we’re thinking that we pretty much suck at this lobstering thing.  There were tons of good “hidey holes” among the coral heads and rocks strewn around the bottom, but did we see a single lobster?  Nein!  The best we could do was a 4’ barracuda that followed us the whole time that we were in the water. On the way home, we stopped at the Hillside Market, as the “Mail Boat” had come in the day before, and fresh vegetables would be on the shelf.  Only problem was that when we got to the checkout, Suz didn’t have any money, and she thought that I should have some.  By the time we brought the bikes back to the boat by dinghy, and I returned to the store to pay for our stuff, she had the Girl ready to go.  The rest of the Georgetown crew had pretty much departed while we were gone.  We took the ride up to Calabash Bay on the northwest end of Long Island laying atop the pilothouse roof, catching some rays, with the autopilot remote in hand.  The anchorage there was reported to be affected by a fair bit of ocean swell, but in settled weather like we were finally experiencing, we figured that it’d be fine for an overnight.  Well……...It was pretty rolly.  We didn’t bother to take the dinghy down, and opted for sundowners on the back porch, as we planned a morning departure for Conception Island.  We were so excited about having scored fresh fruit and veggies, that we took full advantage.  Suz whipped up some slushies on this, the 50th anniversary of their invention. (‘cept hers were made with papaya, banana, coconut cream, rum, ice, and of course, soy milk and protein powder to keep things healthy).  We love our Vitamix.  For dinner, it was salad topped with, you guessed it, grilled Mahi.

We were out of the anchorage by 09h00.  Since we would be crossing deep water on our way to Conception, the rods were out, and the hooks baited.  We’d been doing so well fishing, that we figured that all it took was to wet a line.  In spite of the Admiral doing the fish dance and chanting her soon to be patented fish call, we came up with a giant goose egg for our 2 ½ hour efforts.  We’re now entering through the reef to the anchorage on the northwest end of the island.  The Bight is ringed by a shallow, rocky coral reef to the north, and a mile of pure, sandy beach to the east, and rocks to the south.  There are only 6 other boats here, and it looks like a great place to hang for a few days.

-Later

15 March, 2016
Posted by tuck on Monday, March 21, 2016 - 14:08

Friday, the 11th.  We’re waiting for A.J., the water taxi driver, to come and pick Andy& Jodie up for their trip to the airport.  I hate these times, the long farewells.  Typical to “island time”, he doesn’t arrive at the boat until 30 minutes past the agreed time.  Andy is fit to be tied.  In his mind, he’s already on his way home.  After A.J.  finally arrives and picks A&J up, we should be busy cleaning the boat, but are in a catatonic state, so we spend the rest of the afternoon just chillin’.  A few of the boats in the anchorage are planning a trip to Long Island on Monday, with some excursions after arrival, so we want in.  We call “Five and Dime” to get in, and are told that all of the spots for the activities there are filled.  No room at the Inn.   A half hour later, we’re called on the VHF, and are told that there’s an opening, as one of the boats hasn’t paid their dues.  Quicker than a fly on you-know-what, we’re over to “Five & Dime” with a hundred and five rockets to pay our dues.  We’re in. 

On Saturday, we spend the day makin’ water and doing laundry, as well as cleaning the Girl, post guests.  The office is reconfigured from a guest stateroom back, and our trusty little ship is returned to normal.  At 05h30, A.J. picks us up for our soiree into town for the “Bahamian Music and Heritage Festival”.  Live music, Bahamian food and drink are on the schedule.  The music is good, the food is great, and the night goes quickly.  Before we know it, we’re home.

On Sunday, the 13th, the winds had subsided to around 13 knots or so.  The seas were predicted to be running 1’-3’, so we saddled up to head over to Long Island.  I wasn’t in much of a hurry, as I had taken a quick look at the chart and figured it was about 18NM to our anchorage.  Suz looked at me kinda funny when she asked, and I told her that I wanted to leave around 12h00 or so.  We got the dinghy up and secured, and got under way at around 11h30.  We hadn’t plotted a course.  I figured that we’d do it once underway, as it would be a short hop.  NOT!  Thirty-eight miles?  I don’t know what I was smokin’ when I thought it was only 18, but we were lucky that we had switched to Daylight Savings Time, or we wouldn’t have made it before dark.  We made Thompson Bay at Long Island just before dusk, and dropped the hook in around 10’ of water at the northern end of the bay.  No time to explore as it was getting dark, so we left “White Star” on the boat deck and settled in with the 4 other boats scattered in the bay.  Today, we crossed the Tropic of Cancer (23 degrees, 25 minutes North latitude), the farthest south that “Alizann” has been.

Monday.  Race day.  We expected the sailors from Georgetown to start arriving just after noon.  We dropped the dink, and headed to the newly rebuilt dinghy dock for some shore recon.  We stopped at the “Sou’ Side Bar & Grill”, which would be the focal point of the upcoming shoreside activities.  There, we met Tyrone and his wife Vanessa, the owners of the 400 square foot (Maybe.  This included the 2 porches) establishment.  It was empty, save for a guy sitting outside under the shade of a Sea Grape tree.  We sidled over, and introduced ourselves to Alton, locally known as “Big Al”, as there were 2 other men by the name Alton on the Island.  We trolled for some local knowledge, including good snorkel spots, the location of the market, if there was a place to “top off” our cell phone, where we could drop off our well-traveled packages of post-hurricane relief supplies, and etc.  (Later, we would find out that he, and his partner, Sue, were former Georgetown liveaboards who had recently sold their boat and were now living on the island.  They were also the local organizers of the soon-to-arrive Georgetown to Long Island rally.)  We checked out the local scene, which didn’t take long, topped off our data plan on the IPad, found that the “mail boat”, which brought fresh produce to the market, would arrive in 2 days, and headed back to Sou’ Side for lunch and a brew.  The Hogfish was tasty.  Right about then, the first boats of the rally were appearing on the horizon-no sails (no wind).  We beat a hasty retreat back to the Girl, as we had decided that our late evening choice for anchoring was too far from the lone dinghy dock.  We re-anchored a half mile or so from the dock in 6’ of water, and watched as the 30 or so boats in the rally streamed in, motoring all the way.  In the evening, we all convened at Sou’ Side for a potluck of shared heavy hors doeuvres, supplied by our fellow cruisers, and 2/$5 Sand’s beer, supplied by the bar.  Team “Alizann” was smoked in the Conch races.  We didn’t even make it out of the first round.  I’m pretty sure that there were some professionals in the mix.

Tuesday was a big day.  The big yellow schoolbus from St Peters Anglican parish school was at the dock and loaded by 08h30 for our grand tour of the south end.  David, our driver (and Harbormaster for the commercial harbor, and lumberyard owner, and former grocery store owner, and jack of all trades), gave us a running commentary on the history of the island as we headed “up south”.  Like Canadians in the Maritimes, South is referred to as “up”, and North, “down”.  For our tour, I had the best seat in the house.  Since the bus was full, I sat on an upturned 5 gallon bucket next to David.  We all witnessed firsthand the devastation that “Joaquin” had visited on the people here that were hanging on by their fingernails, even before the storm.  We hit a Blue Hole, where a couple of us climbed and dove off a 50’ cliff into the 630 foot deep water below.  (The Admiral and I did it twice, with 4 other folks taking a shot each).  Next, it was off to “Rowdy Boys” for lunch and sips.  After our bus tour, the crew headed back to their respective boats to “get pretty” for the night’s trip to the cave at Stella Maris for dinner and sips.  Suz and I stayed behind.  David had promised to show us his “secret spot” for bagging lobster (known locally as crawfish).  We took the bus up to his house, where we transferred to his wife’s car for our expedition to the windward side of the island.  There, he showed us the “spot”.  At 18h00, and we were all back on the busses for our trip down north for the nights’ festivities.  On the way, we stopped at a roadside bar for a few roadies ($3 beers, as negotiated by Big Al).  Dinner was literally in a cave.  We sat on the rocks, and supped on grilled Mahi, chicken, peas and rice, cole slaw, and, what?  Hot dogs.  David got us back to the dock safely, and we motored home.

-Later

2 March, 2016
Posted by tuck on Wednesday, March 2, 2016 - 23:26

Hey, Mon.  You Okay?

Nighttime at Emerald Bay Marina.  Tomorrow evening, Andy and Jody come in, and it’s Sayonara to bloggin’ for a week while we play with our old cruisin’ pals.

We ended up staying at Cambridge until Saturday the 27th.  Friday was windy but sunny, and we ended up spending the day on the Girl doing boatchores.  Suz worked on income tax jazz-what a laff, we got no income, while I spent the day in the bilges tightening up hose clamps everywhere I could find them.  We had Lynn and Larry over for blackened Mahi, Beet rosti, and Acorn squash with cranberries.  Lynn supplied the Key Lime pie.  Their stint as hosts for the anchorage was ending on the 29th, and they were thinkin’ thoughts of starting to head back north for the summer season of, can I say   it? -work.  He captains a tour boat in Tobermory, Ontario, and she serves as Mate.  Although we wanted to stay, it was time to move on, and as Saturday morning dawned bright, warm, and almost windless, we dropped the mooring and headed to Staniel Cay, only 12 miles away.  Along the way, we spotted the motoryacht “Rushmore” holding station on the Bank, waiting to enter the marina at Compass cay.  She belongs to some “friends friends” from East Lansing, and we had been instructed to look for them while in the Exumas.  Well, we hailed them on the VHF several times to no avail (they must not have had their radio on).  Oh well.  We anchored off Big Majors Spot Cay (no typo) by noon, and dinghied in to the Staniel Cay Yacht Club.  We did a recon walk, hitting a couple of markets for future reprovs, and checked out Staniel Cay international airport.  The bar at SCYC called us, and we sat on the porch in rocking chairs, and watched a small part of the world go by.  We figured we’d eat as long as we were there, so had an unremarkable late lunch, (early dinner) there.  Blindsided by a severe case of “dumb#ss”, we returned to the tender landing only to find our seven hundred pound dinghy sitting high and dry on the beach at low tide.  By the time that we had the boat floating again, we had run out of daylight, so the following morning we ran over to the beach where the famous “swimming pigs” resided, checked them out (and got rid of some garbage), then went back into the channel by the Yacht Club to check out “Thunderball Grotto” (so named for the James Bond movie sequence shot there).  We didn’t get into the water, but it didn’t look nearly as cool as the grottos back at Rocky Dundas.By 1026, we had the anchor up, and were headed to Black Point, on Great Guana Cay.  Since we had been delayed at Cambridge by unfavorable wind direction, we opted for a quick “drive by” to check things out prior to our guests arriving.  We arrived at the anchorage outside black Point by 1200, and got the hook down in 26 knot winds under sunny skies.  We checked out Lorraine’s Bakery and Restaurant, and had lunch, while availing ourselves of her very good Internet connection.  On our way back to the Girl, we ran into Bob & Peggy (Knot 2 Fast), who had been here for a couple of days since leaving Warderick Wells.  When we got back to “Alizann”, there was another Krogen, “Morse Code III” anchored next to us.  We had been told a month earlier by some other Krogen pals that the folks on “MC” wanted to get in touch with us, as they wanted to head to the Panama Canal with us next year.  After the hook was up at 1445, The Admiral called them on the VHF, and had a nice chat.  Hopefully, we’ll see them again this season.  By 1635, we were anchor down (for the last time) on the lee side of Little Farmer’s Cay.  Our plan was to head out into the Exuma Sound (Atlantic Ocean) through Little Farmer’s Cut in the morning, as the water on the Bank (and out of the wind) was pretty shallow from here south to Great Exuma (and Georgetown, where we were picking Andy and Jody up).  Our charts told us that there would be a fair amount of current exiting Little Farmer’s Cut.  On the ebb tide in the morning, with the wind out of the northeast, (opposing the outgoing tide), the conditions would be just right for a “rage” in the narrow cut.  The good news was that we figured that slack current would be just an hour or so after daybreak, so if we got off by first light, we’d be at the Cut at just about the right time (I keep sayin’, “better to be lucky than good”).  Once out, we hoped that the seas would be calm enough to fish in the deep bluewater on our way to Lee Stocking Cay, where we’d spend the night before heading to Emerald Bay on Great Exuma.

Well……we were anchor up at Little Farmer’s just after daybreak, and out of the Cut with no problem. Seas were 2-4’ on 5 second intervals, but on our port quarter, so not too bad.  No sooner did I get a line wet than we reeled in a 12 kilo, 40” Wahoo (that’d be 26 ½ pounds, folks).  Next came a 30” Mahi.  We got another Mahi that absolutely dwarfed the thirty incher up to the side of the boat, but couldn’t get a gaff in him before he straightened out the hook and swam away.  Dude, this was our kinda fishin’!  We lost 7 Ballyhoo baits on hits that spun the reels out, but didn’t hook up well.  We also lost one of my favorite cedar plugs that I had skirted with a yellow and Chartreuse silicone squid to something BIG.  This guy hooked up, and was zzzzzzzzzzzingin’ the reel out bigtime.  He was close to spooling out 400 yards of eighty-pound test Spectra line, when I had to dial up the drag to keep him from emptying the reel.  The 5-foot rod was bent to nearly 90 degrees.  I couldn’t even get it out of the rod holder for fear of losing the whole shootin’ match.  All of sudden-nuthin’.  I reeled in a couple hundred yards of line with nothing to show but the bitter end.  I’m tellin’ ya, I can’t break this line by hand, and this dude just laughed at it.  Needless to say, we skipped right past Lee Stocking and kept ripping them up.  We ended the day with the Wahoo, the Mahi, and a couple of small Tunas.  The Admiral made me stop fishing, ‘cause she said the freezers were full already.  This was all in about 5 hours time.  We arrived at Emerald Bay Marina at 1428, and tied up in the “cheap seats”-no water, no electricity.  At $.40/ gal, we can make water cheaper (at today’s fuel prices, around $.10/gal.).  We’ve also found that at marinas with metered electricity, the usage billed to us on their meters seems awfully high (in fact, when we do the math, their consumption figures far exceed what the Girl could possibly use when all of her systems are go, go, go).  This offseason, we’re installing a kilowatt meter (lotsa $$$, but we think that the return will be worth it).  We spent the rest of the afternoon fileting and vacuum bagging fish (I’m REALLY slow at this stuff).  We ditched the ice, and some nonessential stuff, so there was room in the freezers.  At 1730, I was all set to go up to the clubhouse for the marina-sponsored “Happier Hour” (‘cause your already happy) featuring food and drinks, but the Admiral insisted that I take a shower.  I thought that the odor of fish blood ‘n guts was kinda manly, but she didn’t see it that way.  Well………we almost missed out on the goodies.  The marina here is dominated by a gang of Quebecois sailors, and let’s just say that they put piranhas to shame.  Two stacked plates at a time is the norm for a trip to the sparse buffet.  Later, Suz would hear stories about their behavior at the Superbowl party that weren’t pretty.  Oh well, we had food back at the boat.

Tuesday morning, I washed and started waxing our trusty little ship, while Suz did laundry at the FREE laundry room (replete with state-of the-art washers and dryers).  In the afternoon, we rented a car and headed into Georgetown to reprovision our fresh veggies and fruit.  I’m just sayin’, but picture a guy that drives 4 or 5 times a year getting into a car with a right-hand steering wheel and driving on the left side of the road.  A couple of Xanax would have served Suzanne well.  Okay, back to the matter at hand.  The supply boat leaves Nassau on Monday, arriving here at night, and stuff is on the shelves by Tuesday afternoon.  By Wednesday, it’s slim pickin’s until the following week.  Sooo……. Ya gotta get there.  We learned last year that you just CANNOT look at prices here.  If you need/want it, get it.  No matter that things are 2 1/2 to 4 times the price of the same item in the States.  Next, a trip to BaTelCo.  Suz had re-upped the data on our Ipad and phone, only to have them quit working altogether.  The nice lady there got things sorted out, and us up and running again (until next time).  Satellite phones are on the list for next year.  On the way home, we stopped at the butcher shop to pick up some lamb chops, as A & J love ‘em.

This morning, we did some more waxing and cleaning rust off of our stainless steel stanchions (a never-ending job) and office work after another trip to Georgetown.  (Yeah, we had to go back-yesterday we got to the post office to mail some stuff home, only to find a handwritten note on the door, informing all that “Until further notice, the post office would be closing at 1:00 P.M. daily”.)  That’s island life.  After turning in the rental, we walked over to a nearby resort, Grand Isle, and treated ourselves to lunch by their pool.  Having taken many vacations like that in our former life, we marveled at how much our lives had changed.  The wind has died, and the flying teeth are now out in full force.  We had been surprised by the lack of no see ‘ums this year-guess it’s because it’s been so windy.  I’ll take the wind over these voracious little buggers anytime.  A & J will be here tomorrow, so I’ll probably talk at ya in a week.  In the meantime, we think we’ll head back north and revisit some cool spots with our old playmates.

-Later

25 February, 2016
Posted by tuck on Sunday, February 28, 2016 - 13:50

Good Morning.

It’s the beginning of day 4 at Cambridge Cay.  We’ll be hanging here until tomorrow (Friday), when the wind moves from its’ current west component.  It’s been interesting for the last couple of days, listening to the VHF radio, as cruisers scramble to find spots to anchor/moor in the west wind, as there are very few of these locations in the Bahamas.  Warderick Wells went from about 30% to fully occupied with 20 on the waiting list.  Our anchorage, Cambridge, went from 4 boats to 17, with half a dozen anchored up north of us.  After checking to the weather a few days ago, we opted to stay put.  It’s not like we’re stuck, however.  We might stay for a week even in settled weather, it’s so pretty here.

The day before yesterday, a 120 footer, “Carte Blanche” came in, she’s moored about a half mile south of us.  They have all the toys-jetskis, a 27’ center console, and a 16’ bonefishing skiff, as well as a couple of R.I.B. tenders.  Yesterday, they were dwarfed when the 160’, “Mustang Sally” crept in.  Both are charters-I wonder what the nickel is on one of these for a week of fun in the sun.  I guess if you have to ask, you can’t afford it.

So let’s back up.  Tuesday was another absolutely gorgeous day.  The seas were favorable, so we dinghied over to Rocky Dundas, and the grottos at low tide.  It was a fun snork.  The waves washed in and out of the caves, so it was kinda surgey, and once in, it was like a wash machine on the “heavy soil” setting.  Inside, it was shallow enough to stand and check out the stalactites hanging from the roof, as the hole overhead admitted shafts of sunlight.  There were two such caves with some pretty nice corals and fish to visit on the swim between.  We’ll be back with our guests.  Next, we motored over to Compass Cay, where we anchored on a sand spit and hiked overland to “Rachel’s Bubble”.  This is a large pool separated from the sea by a low dam of dead coral, bordered on both sides by high outcroppings.  When big waves hit the ocean side of this dam, the water comes frothing and jetting over the top and into the pool.  Standing in the pool, you get the bubbles, and once in a while, the top of a really big wave.  The water color is a milky blue due to all of the bubbles, and has a strange odor, much like the bubbles coming out of an ozonator in a hot tub.  We giggled there for 45 minutes.  Back home, it was Cuban coffee and hammock time.  We had an early dinner, then went over to Lynn and Larry’s with Ken and Grace for our first foray into the complex world of “Mexican Train Dominoes”.  Well, it wasn’t exactly complex, we learned quickly, but I still managed to get my butt handed to me by the more experienced players (and Suzanne).  After fun ‘n games, we peered into the water off of “Seaquel’s” stern, where the underwater lights had been on since sundown.  There, we spotted a 4’ barracuda swimming amongst the schooling Mullet.  An ominous shadow was visible from time to time, swimming just out of the lights’ halo.  Then it wasn’t in the shadows.  An 8’ (Bull Shark?) swam right through the light and under the boat.  For the next 10 minutes or so, we all watched in fascination as he crisscrossed through the light.  Time to go home, we all got into the tender very carefully.

Wednesday morning, Ken and Grace left for their sail up to Eleuthera, while we headed up to Pasture Cay to do some beach cleanup with Lynn & Larry.   Three hours, and 4 huge trash bags later, the protected iguana sanctuary looked molto bene.  There, we saw what must have been the father of all iguanas, only to be surpassed 20 minutes later by one who must have been the grandfather.  Mission accomplished, we headed back to The Girl for lunch, with plans to do a drift dive out on the coral heads southwest of the anchorage in the afternoon.  When we got out to the reef, it was slack tide, so there was no current.  We found a sand patch, and tossed the hook over the side.  Until the rising current made the snorkin’ too tough, we were treated to the sights that go hand in hand with a healthy coral reef.  Too bad we were still in the boundaries of the park (a no-take zone), as we saw many, many potential Grouper sandwiches swimming along, begging to be speared.  We then pulled up anchor and let the tender drift, holding on to lines trailing from its’ stern, viewing the scenery rolling beneath us.  On the way home, we diverted to an Elkhorn coral garden, where, among other things, we spotted a Nurse Shark under a rocky overhang.  Nearing the boats, Lynn, Larry and Suzanne just had to get wet one more time, and went over the side near a little coral islet.  Their reward came in the shape of a small Hawksbill Turtle swimming lazily along the weed line.  That kinda brings us full circle back to the morning of the 25th.  Still hoping for enough “bars” to shoot this into space.

-Later

23 February, 2016
Posted by tuck on Saturday, February 27, 2016 - 19:00

Hey There-

On Sunday morning, it was so pleasant and sunny that inertia threatened to take hold, but we had decided to push on down the Exuma chain.  To paraphrase Jimmy- “There’s so much to see waiting in front of me”-or somethin’ like that.  Cambridge Cay was calling.  Halfway there, I discovered that the charging cord for one of the laptops was nowhere to be found.  A quick call revealed its’ whereabouts-in Andrew’s office.  Well…. we could keep on headin’ down-he’d find a way to get it to us.  Right on.  After a verrrrrrrrry relaxed 2 ½ hour ride, we rounded into the anchorage at Cambridge Cay.  Four other boats were already in the huge, sheltered anchorage, leaving plenty of room for us.  While tying to the mooring, I dropped a pin for a large stainless steel shackle (translate expensive) into the water.  After we were secured, it took about a half hour of searching to find the pin on the bottom, which, by the way, now has a bright yellow lanyard attached to it.  Later in the afternoon, the anchorage hosts, Lynn & Larry dinghied over to welcome us, and collect the rent.  We asked them where they were from.  The following conversation ensued: “Canada”.  “Where in Canada”?  “Oh, a small town on the Great Lakes”.  “Where”?  “You probably haven’t heard of it-Tobermory”.  “Really.  You probably ran a dive operation there, which you sold in the Spring of 2014”.  “Are you serious”?  “Yeah, we met you on the dock at Tobermory when we were headed to the Trent/Severn Canal in May of ’14”.  (This was all Suzanne, none of us remembered our first meeting until she described it in detail).  After we got that out of the way, we arranged to go snorkeling with them the following day to a site by Rocky Dundas Cay.  They told us that there was a grotto there, whose mouth was exposed at low tide, allowing you to swim in to a cavern “large enough to hold this boat”.  Cool.  75 degrees and sunny.  Hammocks out, books in hand.  You get the picture.  After dinner, we dusted off the cribbage board, got out the Hoyle’s, and relearned the game.  As good hosts, it was our duty to get our skills up to a level that we’d pass for players so that when Andy and Jody (avid card players) got here and trounced us, it would be a more satisfying experience for them.

Oh man, this is what it’s all about.  The sun came blazing up over the edge of Cambridge Cay, the wind had stayed steady in the low teens all night, which made for perfect sleeping.  We were excited about our upcoming snorkel expedition in the afternoon, so we broke out our new diveskins to get our weights “dialed in”.  (Diveskins are worn for protection against scrapes and sunburn, and also provide a little bit of warmth.  Ours cover our bodies from ankle to neck to wrist, their thickness is somewhere between long underwear and a light wetsuit) Anyway, they’re slightly buoyant, so if you want to dive below the surface, you need to wear a weight belt to compensate.  We got this accomplished in a few minutes, then headed over to the Cay to do some exploring on land.  There, against a backdrop of crashing aquamarine seas and glaring sunshine on the windward side, we did our eco-thing and picked up beachtrash for an hour or so.  While we were on the beach, a couple of new boats joined us in the anchorage, and one left.  We expected that more would arrive during the day, as another front was expected to roll through the following day.  We had a spot o’ lunch (peanut butter on homemade wheat bread), and were ready to go when Lynn and Larry rolled over in their tender to let us know that they thought it was too rough to go to the caves.  Bummer!  Not to worry, Larry asked if we had been to the “Aquarium”, or the “Plane wreck” sites.  Since we hadn’t snorkeled anywhere around here, the alternates would work just fine.  Off we went in the tenders, joined by Ken and Grace (S/V “Pisces”) to the site some 2 miles away, just off Johnny Depp’s private island.  “The Aquarium” was a pleasant surprise, the water clarity was very good, in spite of the windy conditions, and the diversity of small aquatic life there made the trip a success.  Next, we went to the plane wreck, a drug running Cessna which had crashed and sunk upside down in about 20’ of water back in the eighties.  It was kinda cool, but beside a couple of coral heads rising up from the sandy bottom, there wasn’t much to see.  We had just piled back into the dinghy when up drives….guess who?  Andrew, and he’s got our power cord-Yea!

Back at the ranch, Suz made Cuban coffee while I hung the hammocks up on the boat deck so that we could lay out in the sun and warm up (what a couple of dive weenies!).  Through the rest of the day more boats came rolling in, keeping Lynn and Larry busy with their host duties.  By days’ end, there were a dozen other boats either moored or anchored in our cozy little bay, including a hundred footer.  By 1730, L&L, K&G, The Admiral and Yours Truly were sippin’ and rappin’ on “Alizann’s” back porch.  The full moon rose over the scrub on Cambridge Cay, changing the dark water back to a subtle blue-green hue.  It was so bright that you could see the shadows of The Girl and the trailing tenders on the bottom in 13’ of water.  By 1030, we decided that we should either break it up for the evening or move in together.  We opted for the former after making plans to try the grotto snorkeling on the ‘morrow.

One of these days, we’ll get enough cell coverage to post some blogs/pics.  Until then,

-Later

 

 

 

21 February, 2016
Posted by tuck on Friday, February 26, 2016 - 10:02

 

Helloooo…….

First thing in the morning, we hopped into the dinghy and motored a mile or so north to Allen’s Cay, where we hoped to see the marine iguanas that lived on the shore there.  We threw the hook out near the beach and snapped a few pics of the many iguanas perched on the rocks surrounding the sandy beach.  Later, we were out of Highbourne, anchor up at 1220.  On our way out, Suz spotted another Krogen in the distance.  We loitered around for a few minutes, thinking that she may be “Sweet Ride”.  As they neared, it was clearly a 42’, not a 44’.  Passing close abeam was “Knot 2 Fast” crewed by Bob and Peggy, friends from the Rendezvous.  We had a quick chat over the rail.  They told us that they had been travelling with a couple of sailboats, and were heading south as well.  We figured that we’d see them down the line.  As we pulled into the Shroud Cay mooring field, the sun was out, and the line of clouds had moved on.  The seas were as calm as could be, so we dropped “White Star”, and headed to the north end of the island where there was a shallow waterway to the other side of the Cay.  This passage, accessible only at high tide, wound through mangrove lowlands (Swamp Girl be smiling’) for a mile or so, terminating at a deserted beach on the windward side.  High above the beach on a rocky outcropping was the ruins of “Camp Driftwood”, the island base of an American sailinghippie back in the sixties.  Later, the spot was used by D.E.A. agents, surreptitiously keeping tabs on the air traffic in and out of Norman’s Cay to the north.  We walked to the top, and were rewarded with a breathtaking view of the mangrove lowlands extending west all of the way back to the other side of the island, the Exuma Sound to the east, and Norman’s Cay to the north.  The next morning, we were awakened as the wind shifted to the north at 20 knots.  Dropping the mooring at 0700, we motored to the south side of Elbow Cay and dropped anchor.  The spot proved to be untenable, so we decided to head to Warderick Wells Cay, hoping that the anchorage there would be mo’ betta.  We called Exuma Land and Sea Park’s headquarters there, and were informed that all of the moorings in the northern mooring field were occupied (except for the 3 in the cut, which we figured would be pretty exposed to wind and current), but that there were plenty available in the Emerald Rock anchorage south of HQ.  By then, the wind had clocked to the northeast at 20-23 knots, so we figured that the slight swell in the anchorage would subside as the winds continued to clock around.  We deployed the flopperstopper nonetheless, riding nicely on the ball, a mile or so south of the Park HQ and northern mooring field.  Just an aside here regarding mooring balls vs anchoring.  Although it is often quite possible to anchor rather than pick up a ball, therefore staying for free, we try to take a ball and pay, encouraging the government to continue to put in balls (which are kinder to the environment than anchor chains dragging across the bottom, ruining potentially fragile ecosystems).

At the park HQ, we met Andrew, an American who had been managing affairs here for the past 9 years.  It seems that he came on a boat, started helping out, and ended up running the place.  Besides the National Defense Force guys who run their boats out of the base here, the island is uninhabited.  Suz and I are members of the Park Support Fleet (we donate $ to the park), so we had a “care package” of supplies from the Park “wish list”, which is posted online that we dropped off while we were at the office.  We asked Andrew if there were any chores that the park needed volunteers for, and he told us that he would check with Dave, the maintenance guy, and let us know.  We spent the rest of the day on The Girl, and buzzing around the anchorage on the tender.  Friday was to be an allday hike around the island, but when we checked in with Andrew before starting our walk, he told us that he had to go “down south” unexpectedly, and could we man the VHF, take care of the mooring fields, and run the store while he was gone.  No problemo!  He gave us a quick primer on how to do the stuff we needed to do to assign moorings according to boat length/draft, how to collect fees, and sell stuff out of the store.  Being super organized, he had a “how to” cookbook with all procedures outlined, right down to radio scripts with instructions for boats entering the various fields. We took a 2 hour walk in the morning, then came back to the office and assumed the position, while Andrew headed south to repair a mooring.  The afternoon went smoothly and as we were closing up at 1600, Andrew returned and we handed over the keys.  Good fun, and we had the use of his computer and satellite internet, so that we could check our emails and get weather reports.  We didn’t want to abuse the privilege, so the blogs already written were piling up.  Still no cell coverage, but Andrew told us that it was usually marginal here even on the best of days.

It was still beautiful on Saturday, the 20th, with the temperature climbing into the high 70’s, so we motored back to HQ and the trailhead to Boo Boo Hill.  Supposedly, the hill is so-named due to the ghostly apparitions that inhabit its’ environs during the full moon.  In years past, a schooner had gone down off the coast here, with the loss of all hands.  None of the bodies were recovered, so none were given a proper Christian burial, the result being that these lost souls were destined to roam here forever.  The view was nothing short of spectacular.  Along the way, we checked out the “blow holes”, openings to the surface from the tops of underground caves, where, at high tide, wave action causes water to spurt out like a geyser.  Down on Boo Boo Beach, we picked up a garbage bag full of plastic products, Styrofoam, discarded fishing nets, and etc. which had washed up on the shore.  As we visit these beautiful places, it’s sickening to see all of this pollution left by human hands.  We can’t help but think about all of the marine creatures whose lives are destroyed by entanglements from, and ingestion of this detritus.  Sorry about the downer, but this stuff makes me cranky.  We decided to hang out at Rendezvous Beach, a deserted patch of sand near the Girl, and catch some rays that afternoon.  No sooner did we get our towels down, we heard of trouble in the northern anchorage on our handheld VHF.  A trawler had come in, and lost control in the wind and current, causing it to back down and get hung up on a mooring ball.  I called Andrew, and yes, he did want some help.  By the time I raced out to the Girl, got my dive gear, and got to the scene, he was just about finished removing the trashed mooring ball and pendant from the running gear of the snagged boat.  Chatting afterward, I complimented him on his quick response.  He said: “Yep, been there and done that-many times”.  I returned and picked up the stranded Admiral off the beach, and we headed in to the beach at HQ where an impromptu gathering of cruisers was taking place for happy hour.  The snacks and drinks were good, the conversations better.  Bob & Peggy had come in during the day, and we had a chance to catch up with them as well.  As soon as the sun went down, the Hutias came out in full force.  These guys are the only mammal native to the Bahamas.  They are about the size of a large softball, and look kinda like fat rats with a short tail.  They’re nocturnal, and don’t seem to be the least bit fazed by humans.  From the number of them that were literally dodging between our feet, it’s hard to believe that they are an endangered species.  We motored back to “Alizann” under a nearly full moon, and planned our departure for the following day.

-Later

16 February, 2016
Posted by tuck on Friday, February 26, 2016 - 09:50

 

Hola Muchachos!

The next few days at New Providence were quite windy.  Surprise!  Saturday night and Sunday, the surge out of the north continued, wrapping around the point, and hitting us directly on the beam (as the wind out of the east had us pointed in that direction).  First thing Sunday morning, we deployed the flopperstopper, which decreased our roll considerably.  I’ll try to describe the flopperstopper.  On one side of the Girl, we have a padeye fixed to the hull just below the caprail, about 3’ off the water.  Into this padeye, we fix a 10’ long whiskerpole (basically a boom for a spinnaker on a sailboat).  This boom extends perpendicular to the long axis of the boat.  At its outboard end, 3 lines are attached which come back to the boat; one to the top of the mast, to keep the pole level, and one each to the bow and stern, to keep the pole perpendicular to the boat.  From the bottom of the outboard end of the pole is a line which extends around 6’ below the surface of the water.  At the underwater end of this line, a hinged stainless steel panel is attached, which offers resistance to being pulled through the water.  The overall effect is that the rolling motion of the boat is damped.  The system works quite well, and would work even better if there was a pole on the opposite side of the boat.  In fact, we think that we’ll buy another “fish” and hang it off the boom, cranked out on the port side.  (When we built “Alizann”, we weren’t sure about our crazy idea, so thought we’d just do one side in case it was a total bust.)  I’m not sure how that explanation worked out, but I’ll throw a couple of pictures up when we get decent Interweb.  I tore up the outboard motor again, pulled the old fuel pump, and replaced it with the new.  I’ll run carburetor cleaner through the old one, vacuum bag it, and keep it as a spare.  We dropped “White Star” into the water, and made some test runs around the anchorage.  he afternoon was spent chillaxin’ in the sun up on the boat deck in the lee of the bridge, out of the 18 knot winds , and bein’ warm and toasty.  I was smilin’-between the winderators and the solar panels, we were puttin’ money in the bank.  Our battery charge rose as the day wore on, in spite of our constant energy consumption-“Yeah, Baby”!  Holy Mahi Tacos!  ‘Em shur made a great dinner paired with a vinegar-based coleslaw and fresh veggies.  By evening, the swell subsided and the Girl rode well in the gusty (up to 22 knots) conditions.  The sunset as viewed off our back porch was awesome.

 

.

 


The seas were predicted to subside by Tuesday, making it a good travel day, so we spent most of the day on Monday doing-you it, guessed it-boatchores.  Suz grabbed her preptools and varnish brush, touching up areas in the galley, and portlights over our bed.  Meanwhile, I washed and waxed small areas outside.  This is an ongoing deal.  We just work our way around the boat.  When we’re done, we start over again.  Not real rewarding, but necessary to protect the fiberglass, and keep the rust at bay on the stainless.  During the early evening, the wind shifted to the southeast, and the swell was back.  It rained off and on, but no thunderstorms, even though they had been predicted.  During the early hours, the flopperstoppers’ block at the top of the mast started squeaking LOUDLY, inducing that half-sleep, restless mode.  We were both more than ready for sunup, so that we could get up and go.  We ran down the Tongue of the Ocean so that we could wet a few lines in the deep water, but after an hour or so with no bites, we abandoned that course.  A beeline to Highborne Cay would get us there by 1500 or so, as opposed to arriving around dusk, so we plotted a new course across the shallow banks.  We weren’t sure where we were going to anchor at Highborne, as there looked like several possibilities, so we wanted to get there when the sun was still fairly high.  All the while, we were watching a line of thunderstorms moving east across Florida at 20 mph, and wondering if they’d peter out before they reached us.  We were rolling along with the watermaker crankin’ out some fresh water, when I noticed that the water tank gauges are droppin’notrisin’.  What?  No sinks running.  Suz opens the midship machinery compartment, only to find that water is gushing in from somewhere up under the sole on the port side.  I jump down, and shut off the valves on the tanks while Suz turned off the water pump.  Of course, the leak stopped, but not before we lost 100 gallons of precious water.  It took a while to find it, but a hose clamp on a barbed nipple had failed, allowing the hose to pop off (it was double-clamped, but apparently the second clamp wasn’t placed correctly).  The good news was that the wine cellar got a good cleanout as I wiped and shopvac’d out the water that the bilge pump missed.  (Note to self-Maybe I should install a high water alarm in that compartment too).

After a seven hour cruise on this 71 degree, windy, overcast day, we pulled into the lee of Highborne Cay, and dropped anchor in 13 feet of water.  We dinghied into the small manmade harbor to check out the boats there, a couple of hundred footers, and a few sportfishers.  They’re pretty proud of their dock, wanting $10 to land the tender, so we satisfied ourselves with a “from the water” tour, as there was nothing on land to attract us.  We were itching to get south, and hopefully, to better weather.  It looked like Shroud Cay would be a nice next stop for us on our way down the chain, so we planned to head there the next day.

Sorry about the wierd page layout, but we're working on some format changes.  Finally got a good cell signal, so we'll get some blogs up.

Hasta la Vista

14 February, 2016
Posted by tuck on Tuesday, March 1, 2016 - 20:43

Goood Morning!

It’s a dreary, windy day here in West Bay on New Providence Island.  Oops, a little late for a spoiler alert.  Now that you know that we got off the dock, let’s fill in the blanks.

Thursday, the 11th dawned bright and sunny, but still very windy with the temperatures promised to move in to the high 60-low 70 area.  We got off a Happy Birthday email (voicemail on the phone call) to our son, Jeremy, then took the water taxi over to Port Lucaya.  Over in the Market Square, we perused the goods at several of the shops before walking a couple miles down the beach.  With no one in sight for a half mile in either direction, we found a spot in the lee of a small dune(let), where, out of the wind, it was actually warm.  There, we luxuriated in the sun for a couple of hours, enjoying the noboatchores.  On the way home, we stopped at “Agave” (which Aaron the Dockmaster had recommended) for a late lunch/early dinner.  The Conch fritters, Mahi tacos, and Jerk chicken with peas and rice were washed down nicely with a cold Kalik (in the Admiral’s case, iced tea).  Returning home, I called the marine supplier, who informed me that yes, the fuel pump was on its’ way, and no, they couldn’t be sure it would arrive tomorrow, but if it did, it wouldn’t be until after 1600.  Okay……. the weather window looked fantastic for tomorrow, but still reasonable for Saturday.  Suzanne’s turn to pick the movie, but she allowed me some input.  “Magic Mike” could’ve/should’ve stayed unwatched in our humble opinions.

As promised, Friday morning dawned warm and bright with a few puffs of breeze.  Man, did we have the urge to go.  We kept telling ourselves that we were on “Island Time” and to relax.  We had some nice “Face Time” with Jeremy, as he was taking the day off for his birthday.  Afterwards, I couldn’t take it anymore, so I ripped into the outboard engine.  I got the high pressure reservoir off, disassembled it, and removed the fuel pump.  Lotsa dirty screens and filters.  When I got the pump out, I hotwired it to a 12 volt source, and it popped on.  What?  I cleaned all of the components, installed new “O” rings, and put it back in the engine.   Crank, crank, crank-nothin’.  The motor was getting fuel, now what?  I checked-no spark.  Okay, so when I was cleaning up the wiring mess the other day, I bypassed the “Kill switch”.  I undid my “fix”, cranked again, and Eureka!  Eric, Rhonda & his girlfriend Sara stood on the dock and gave us a standing “O”.  I called the marine supplier and Jamie, the boss, gave me the answer that I expected.  It was a special order part, and I still needed to pay for it.  He also assured me that once a fuel pump bound up once, it would most assuredly do it again.  The good news was that the pump was on-island.  The bad news was that it was hung up in Customs.  It seems that the day before, a cache of guns was discovered in a shipment of “consumer goods”, and the guys were inspecting every box individually today.  We kept the positive attitude, and called Queenie to drive us to the grocery store and OBS marine supply.  When she picked us up 10 minutes later, 2 other folks were in the van, headed to the port to board “Balaeria”, a ferry headed to Port Everglades in Fort Lauderdale.  They had taken it several times in the past, and reported that the 3-hour trip could get kinda sloppy if the weather was bad.  The price was right, however, at $200/per, and the schedule was fairly reliable, with a trip over and back on most weekdays.  (we made a mental note).  Now, it was getting late-1645, and OBS closed at 1700.  “No worry” says Queenie.  As we roll through the gate at 1657, she says “That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout!”  Jamie says every part in his shipment has arrived but ours.  He’d sent a guy back to the airport to look for it, but everyone would be headed home for the weekend soon.  What a letdown.  As I was walking out to the taxi to give Suz the update, Jamie’s truck rolled in, and a guy jumps out with a box in his hand.  “You the guy waiting for a fuel pump”?  Music to my ears.  Jamie gave us some love on the price, foregoing his profit, it came through on our cruising permit (so no 30% duty) and, all in all we didn’t have to pay a lot more than we would’ve in the States.  We dropped Suz off at the grocery store, and I went home to move the Girl over to the fuel dock to diesel up before the 1800 closing time.  Back at the ranch, Eric and his crew were gone, so I pulled out of the slip and over to the fuel dock alone (a first for me-singlehanders do it all the time. ) She only took 75 gallons, but OCD me likes to start with full tanks.  After filling, I hung at the fuel dock until Queenie got the Admiral back, then we moved back to the slip to fill the water tanks, stow groceries, and get dinner (homemade pizza) ready.  Suz also fixed lunch and cut up veggies for our trip the next day.  The pizza was almost done when Rhonda popped in, ordering us over for Shepherd’s pie, one of Eric’s specialties.  Suz set the timer, and we were off to “Sweet Serenity” for comfort food and good company.  We watched an episode of the TV show, “Wicked Tuna”, which we had never heard of, and got our fishin’ juices flowing.  We excused ourselves at 2100, as we were planning an 0330 departure.

0315 came mighty quickly, but we were pumped.  We got off the dock by 0336.  As we passed the seabuoy outside Bell’s Channel, the seas and winds were higher than predicted, but no big deal (1’-3’ and 12 knots), as they were on our quarter.  Breakfast of champions, pizza and coffee for me as I settled in for the first watch.  Suz drifted off to bed, while I waited for sunrise.  It did not disappoint.  After sunup, I rigged a couple of lines, one with frozen Ballyhoo, one with a skirted cedar plug, and let ‘em out about 200 yards.  No sooner than Suzanne took the wheel, one of the reels was screamin’ off line.  Ran back to the cockpit as Suz slowed the Girl, and hooked up.  A gorgeous Mahi leapt out of the water about 400 yards back, furiously trying to shake that hook.  The bull jumped two more times, with me reeling in like a man possessed with each breach.  With our little ship idling along on autopilot, Suz brought in the other line so that it wouldn’t get fouled.  We got our prize alongside, where Suz deftly gaffed him on the first try-Yeah, Baby!  Bled him out, snapped a pic and gotim on ice.  Rebait and wait.  Well……we got nothing else until I laid down for a nap a few hours later.  I jumped up and hustled to the cockpit where one of the reels was winding out.  I wasn’t patient enough, and started reeling in before he was hooked- my reward was a Ballyhooless hook-Oh well.  As we neared Chubb Cay, our proposed destination, we rechecked the weather.  Looked like we were in for a couple days of heavy winds, so we reevaluated our plans, and decided that West Bay, on New Providence Island might be a better place to hole up, so we altered course.  Coming on to the shallow waters of the Bank, we hauled in our lines, and traded bait for bathing suits.  With the Girl on autopilot, we basked in the sun on the bow, cruising over the aquamarine water listening to “The 60’s on Six”, courtesy of Sirius Radio.  After an hour or so of subtropical sun, we had had enough, and our prize needed filleting.  My new collapsible workbench provided a perfect platform for fish work, which yielded some gorgeous filets . As the sun dropped, it was evident that we were headed toward another “boating don’t”, entering a strange harbor after dark.  We had no alternative, and the entry was very straightforward, so in we went, as the wind started to roar.  By the time the anchor was down, we were too pooped for Mahi tacos, so we ate our lunch (Tunafish sammies and veggies) instead.

-Later 

10 February, 2016
Posted by tuck on Wednesday, February 10, 2016 - 22:12

Goood Morning Baahaamaas!

The pouring rain subsides, and we peek out of the pilothouse to see Aaron, the Dockmaster, standing in the shelter of the eaves in his office door, 10 feet away.  After exchanging the usual morning pleasantries, he lets us know that Customs and Immigration is just around the corner, but still within the harbor.  We’ll need to take the Girl over, but no need to rush, as the officers don’t arrive until 0930 (or so).  A guy walking the dock says “Hey, is that a Krogen?”  Conversation ensues, he tells us that he’s gettin’ a Krogen soon, as he’s tired of motoring about in his sailboat.  (Little known trivia-cruising sailboats motor about 70% of the time).  Anyway, he also asks us if we know the folks on the other Krogen, “Sweet Ride”, that is docked here.  We sure do, but are flabbergasted that they’re here.  They had left Sunset Bay in Stuart, heading south for a crossing to Bimini a week or so earlier, accompanied by our good friends, Jeff and Susie aboard “Idyll Time”, who were headed to the Keys.  How’d they get this far north?

At 0930, we head over to Port Lucaya to clear customs, and arrive at the dock just as the water taxi is coming in.  Christopher and Alexandra (“Sweet Ride”) are on board, and tell us that they did indeed go to South Bimini, but after a few days, had the urge to move.  Their destination, the Berry Islands was a two (daylight hours) day trip from Bimini, involving anchoring out on the Bank (recall our trip last year, anchoring with nothing but water to the horizon for 360 degrees). Basically, the weather was so unsettled that they decided to head way northeast to Grand Bahama, stay here for a few days, then head southeast to Great Harbour Cay, in the Berry’s.  That’s cruising-plans always written in sand.  We cleared Customs, plunked down our $300 (cash) for our cruising permit, and tooled back to the G.B. Yacht Club to wash our salt-encrusted little ship and get some rest.  The rest part didn’t happen.  We had some trouble getting our Bahamian SIM cards to function properly in our phone and IPad, so a trip to BaTelCo was in order.  Our new neighbor, Erick on his 65’ Hatteras, informed us that he had lived here for 6 years or so, and that he’d call his favorite taxi driver, Queenie, to drive us over.  She was a stitch, and entertained us both to and from the telephone office.  (She came in with us and waited while we took care of business-everybody that came in to the store knew her, it seemed).  That pretty much killed the day.  Saturday was bright and sunny, albeit very windy.  We took the water taxi over to Port Lucaya, cruised the market square (cruise ships take their passengers here, and there is a Ritz Hotel as well), then walked the deserted beach for a couple miles.  When we returned to the Girl, we dropped the tender in the water to explore the man-made waterways that twisted and turned for a couple of miles past the marina.  The depths through this maze of canals ran around 10’, the shores were bordered with seawalls, and the land about 40% developed with some pretty nice homes.  I’m sure there’s a story about its’ development-guess we’ll find out later.  At the other end of the canals, there was a narrow, shallow channel exiting to the sea.  It wasn’t big enough for “Alizann”, but no problem for small motor or sailboats at high tide.  Earlier in the day, we had arranged with Rochelle, (touted by Erick’s friend, Rhonda, as the best cook on the island) to cook a traditional Bahamian dinner for Christopher and Alexandra and us that evening.  We were running short on time, so I suggested running outside back to Bell’s Channel, and the marina.  Due to the high wind and seas, the Admiral nixed the idea, and said that if we were late for dinner, so be it.  How fortuitous that decision was!  About a mile from the marina, the motor in the dinghy just quit.  No warning, no sputtering, no nothing-just quit, like someone had flipped a switch.  The starter turned her over, but nothing.  About the same time as the motor quit, a small motor boat appeared coming toward us from the other direction (we hadn’t seen another boat underway the whole trip).  We hailed them, they grabbed our line, turned around and towed us back to the Girl.  We were only 15 minutes late for supper.  It was wonderful.  Over dinner, we learned that it was C & A’s second anniversary of their first date.  Wow!  From first date to owning a boat together in two years.  Christopher is quite the talker, and regaled us with story after story, much to our delight.

Most of Sunday was spent dinking around with the motor.  First, I went through the fuel system from the tank to the fuel pump.  Everything looked good.  Next, I pulled apart and cleaned all of the wiring harnesses, and checked continuity of switches from the helm to the motor.  Again, everything looked good to me.  This problem was above my pay grade, so I tossed in the towel for the day and got cleaned up to join Erick, his son Ian, and their friend Rhonda for dinner and Super Bowl on his boat.  A good time was had by all.  Erick cooked, and we all ate.  Salmon, black beans & rice, and sushi.  3-2-1, provided by Suz, topped off this eclectic menu as we all vegged in front of his hugescreen TV.

Monday morning, and we’re up before dawn to get “Sweet Ride” off the dock.  They’ll go to Great Harbour, and use the slip that we had reserved, as they were unable to get one at the full marina there.  We tell them to make sure and hook up with Bill & Lauren (our Canadian cruising buddies) on “Sea Star”, as they are already moored there.  At 0800, a call to OBS Marine in Freeport got a mechanic out by 1000.  Took him about a half hour to decide that a bad fuel pump was the problem.  A call to the shop revealed that there wasn’t a pump anywhere in the Bahamas.  One had to be ordered from the States.  ChaCh$ng!  The part that wholesaled out of the factory for $400, would run around $900 here.  Time to do some callin’.  Found it online for around $550, but nobody wanted to deliver to the Bahamas.  I took a flyer, and called several dealers in Miami and Lauderdale to see if they knew of any customers heading out. -A long shot, but hey, ya gotta try.  No Go.  Erick said that he had a buddy in Lauderdale who MIGHT be headed out in a few days, and would be happy to bring the pump.  Okay, so the pump MIGHT get to him before he leaves, and he MIGHT have good weather.  We checked with Customs.  Since we had paid for a cruising permit, if the part was sent to our boat, no 40% duty.  Talked with Jamie at OBS.  Yes, he could do that, but they would still have to add their markup.  If we didn’t have to get down to Georgetown by the first week in March for arriving company, we probably would have gone another route, but we had OBS order the pump and have it “emergency shipped” to Miami, where a freight expediter would pick it up and run it out to Freeport by Friday at the earliest.  Okay, here’s our credit card number……….No, they want cash.  Great, I hop on my bike and ride the 9.6 klicks to the shop so that we can get the order placed ASAP.  All good fun. I think that it may be the national sport here to get the passenger side mirror as close as you can to the bike rider as you pass.  Moving over a tad is not in the program.  Having dodged death (or at least severe impairment), I took the rest of the day off.  Suz and I broke out our newest crew member, “Little Scout”, a Phantom 3 drone, for her maiden flights.  She is equipped with GPS, and is gyro stabilized, making her super easy to fly.  Her underbelly camera pans and tilts, is capable of taking still or video images, and has a continuous feed back to our smartphone, which is attached to the control station.  I had to pry the stick out of the Admiral’s (I guess that now, as a flyer, she’ll have to be a part-time General as well) hands to get a little flight time in.  When we get a little more confidence, and when the wind isn’t blowing 20, we should be able to send L.S. up and out for some long-range recon.  (as always, major expenditures aboard are made in the name of SAFETY).

Tuesday was cleaning day.  The Admiral (now back on the boat) said that the place “looked like the bottom of a birdcage”.  We washed walls, ceilings, and floors.  Carpets and screens were taken out on the dock and scrubbed-you get the picture.  All the while, it was cloudy, cold, and blowing 20, a perfect day for cleaning.  When the Girl was standing tall and proud, we called it a day, had dinner, and settled in for “Movie Night”, featuring “The Bourne Legacy”.

It was still blowing this morning, but the sun was out.  Around 1030, when the thermometer cracked 60 degrees, we grabbed the backpack and power walked over to Taino Beach, a few miles away.  There, we walked the beach, then had lunch at “Sandbar”, the restaurant at the Taino Beach Club.  Erick, Rhonda, and Ian are coming over for dinner this evening.  Suzanne is cooking up some chili and cornbread-appropriate for this chilly, breezy weather.

-Later

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Captain's Log

3 November, 2017
Posted by tuck on Saturday, November 11, 2017 - 17:45

Morning, Morning.

Hurricane season is over!!  Doesn’t mean that there couldn’t be any more storms, just means that our insurance company will allow us to move back up into the “hurricane latitudes”.  Yesterday, we left Port Louis Marina in St. George, taking a short shakedown cruise around the south end of Grenada to Woburn Bay.  The short trip allowed us to try out the Girls’ systems which have all been asleep for the past months while at the marina.  Everybody but the weather station at the top of the mast behaved well.  We can live with a funky wind speed indicator.  We spent the night in Woburn, picking up our last meat order from Gilles, the butcher/owner of Whisper Cove Marina and restaurant.  Our order was short a couple of pork tenderloins.  Gilles said that if we could stay until Friday, we could get our tenderloins, as he was “killing the animal” on Thursday.  We’ll survive without-grabbed a couple of cutlets instead.  This morning, we were off the hook by 07h14.  By 08h15, we were at the dropoff on the windward (Atlantic) side of Grenada, heading North with 2 lines wet.  So far, (at 10h00) not a single nibble.  On the bright side, we’ve had no hydraulic overheats, and all systems running well over 2’-4’ beam seas.  The plan is to stop at Ronde Island, near Kick ‘Em Jenny (the underwater volcano) for lunch.  If the anchorage isn’t too rolly, we’ll stay the night.  Otherwise, we’ll continue north to Carriacou.

Here I am, a couple of days later.  The anchorage at Ronde Island was really pretty.  There was a fair bit of swell coming around the corner, but it wasn’t anything that the flopperstoppers couldn’t handle.  We ran up to Sandy Island, off Carriacou the next morning.  We’ve been on a national Park mooring ball here for the past two days, our bow pointed toward the town of Hillsborough, some 2 miles away.  The prevailing winds have us positioned beautifully.  Sunset off the back porch, with the full moon rising over the bow shortly after.  Off to our port lies Sandy Island, its’ white beach 400 yards distant.  There are only 10 mooring balls here, and anchoring is not allowed.  Besides ourselves, there have been 3 boats here every day.  The other 6 balls turn over daily.  It’s really nice to be out of the commercial harbor and into clean water.  We were able to run our watermaker for the first time in months.  We held our breaths as we awakened the slumbering beast, and to our relief, she purred along smoothly.  Chores have been held to a minimum, although I’m trying to reclaim the lines that ran off Alizann’s bow to the submerged mooring in Port Louis.  Even though we had the divers scrub them monthly, they came up covered in soft and hard growth.  We soaked them in buckets of bleach solution for two days, then trailed them off the back of the boat after scrubbing them a foot at a time, and scraping the barnacles off.  Another bleach bath, and they still smell DISGUSTING!  They’re hanging in the sun now-we’ll see.  Ed on “Slowdown” says that he just throws them away after a season-now I know why.

On Friday, we walked on the beach, relaxed, and started to get reacquainted with life on the water.  Yesterday, we had an early morning snorkel off the northeast tip of the island, finding a nice patch of healthy coral and a diversity of fish and invertebrates.  In the afternoon, we took a dinghy ride over to Hillsborough and booked a 2 tank dive with “Deefer Divers” for tomorrow morning (Monday).  We’re hoping to get a few of our new favorite dinner fish (Lionfish).

The dive with Deefer Divers was a “Red Carpet” experience.  They were expecting a dive club from Illinois the next day, booking their boats for the rest of the week.  As such, the full staff was with us (for 6 divers), I assume to get them all on the same page before the arrival of the twenty-some-odd divers from the States.  We had the divemasters from Deefer, the divemaster and new manager from Arawak Divers (Deefer’s sister shop in Tyrell Bay), two boat captains, and one of the owners of both dive shops.  Suzanne and I dove with Mike, the new manager of Arawak (soon to be Carriacou Divers), and his mate, Bob.  They both turned out to be super “spotters”.  In addition to bagging a half dozen Lionfish, we saw uncounted lobsters, 9 Manta Rays (groups of 2, 3, and 4), several Stingrays, a field of Garden Eels, a Nurse Shark, a school of Squid, a few free-swimming and hidey-hole ensconced Moray Eels, and the usual suspects of coral reef habitats

We had planned to head out after the morning dive, but it was a beautiful day, so we just hung out on the Girl and enjoyed the post-dive “glow”.   Midafternoon, “Exclusive” (everybody in the islands has a nickname) and his twin boys came by with fresh lobster.  Sure, why not?  The tail went on the grill with a couple of steaks.  No red pop on board (we’ll wait ‘till the French islands to restock), but the Champaign washed it all down satisfactorily.

Morning came soon enough.  We dropped the dinghy, headed in to town and cleared out with Customs and Immigration.  We walked the streets a bit, and checked out the grocery stores, deciding that this definitely was not a provisioning spot on any return trip.  We’ll certainly be back for an encore with the dive operation here, though.  We’ve heard that Sister’s Rock is a primo dive, so we’ll try to time our stop to coincide with a Neap tide, as the current out there is ferocious during a Spring tide (it was a full moon this weekend).

Off to Union Island in Saint Vincent and the Grenadines (SVG).  JT Pro Kiteboarding Center is calling us back.

-Later

 

30 October, 2017
Posted by tuck on Saturday, November 11, 2017 - 15:25

Good Morning,

Our last 2 weeks in Grenada passed quickly.  We woke up the propulsion engine and generator after everybody got new impellers in their raw water pumps.  The watermaker remained an unknown, as there was no way that we’d run it in this commercial harbor with its many chemical and biologic pollutants.  We were now texting and emailing Clarke every day, with very little progress being made on our awning.  One night, while we were at Grenada Brewing Company with a bunch of other cruisers, Clarke’s name came up.  Oooooh Boy!  Lotsa vitriol.  Seems that he used to do a great job, but as of this year, we heard the same story from 4 other boats-delays, excuses, and projects not delivered to agreed-upon specifications.  All the stories ended the same way, with his customers threatening to trash him on social media, and feeling anger instead of satisfaction.  Let’s just say that we got an awning a few days before our departure.  We’re in the process of modifying it so that it’ll work.  Unfortunately, our sewing machine took a hike after the first seam, so the 2 of us have been sewing by hand.  Somewhere down the line, we’ll find a professional to remake it properly.

One night, a bunch of us went to “Patrick’s” restaurant.  We enjoyed Momma’s cooking, served family-style.  Will served us 13 different Grenadian dishes, including Green Papaya salad, Green Banana salad, Mashed Pumpkin, grilled Breadfruit, curried Goat, Cucumber fritters, Lambi (Conch), sweet & sour fish, etc. and etc……….., so we all had a nice “taste of Grenada”, even tho’ Manicou (Possum) and Iguana were not on the menu that night.  Another evening, the crew of “Alizann” hosted a “Goodbye” cocktail party for Dan and Melissa (“Slow Dancing”) for a dozen of their friends before they departed for Bonaire.  Suzanne just had to cook one more dinner for Ron.  He requested Shepherd’s Pie.  In 88 degree weather?  Really?  Poor guy came down with a bad cold, so Suz delivered his comfort food to his boat.  I have to admit, the Pie was good (With the air-conditioning cranking, and an NFL game on cable TV).

We got our last delivery from “Fast Manicou”, a.k.a. John Hovan.  He came to “Alizann”, picked up our empty propane tank, SodaStream CO2 bottles, and returned them to us full, as well as bringing a couple of cases of Coke (diet and otherwise), and a case of French Champagne (for $25EC/bottle), all at considerably lower prices than we could find around town.

Soon enough, all was made ready and it was time to go.

-Later

15 October, 2017
Posted by tuck on Tuesday, November 7, 2017 - 18:02

Good Day,

Sooo…. Grenada has a very active chapter of “Hash House Harriers”.  (The H3 is an international group of non-competitive runners, commonly described as “drinkers with a running problem”.  The group originated in the Federated Malay States in 1938 by some British colonial officers to combat post weekend hangovers).  Anyway, instead of avoiding this group, as we had been sagely advised (by one who had dislocated a shoulder, and another who had broken an ankle while Hashing with this group), we decided to join them in celebrating the Grenada chapters’ 1,000th Hash.  We took a cab up to the north end of Grenada, found the location, and signed up for the course that was right in the middle of the 7 trail choices of varying difficulty.  Our trail led us up and down through the tropical rain forest.  In places, the trail was so steep that you had to pull yourself along on brush growing alongside the trail(?).  In others you had to hold on for dear life as you slid downhill on Teflon-slick mud (which covered the trail from start to finish-Hey, it’s rainy season, and we were up north).  The trail crossed several streams, and in the muddy lowlands, many a shoe was sucked off the unsuspecting participant.  After a couple of muddy, sweaty hours, we finished unscathed, except for a bit of mud (especially our backsides).  The beer was cold and cheap (3 for $12EC).  Afterwards we enjoyed the festivities, including music and fun with the nearly 400 other participants.  Unfortunately, they ran out of tee shirts in my size.  Suz was able to score one, though.  The hour-and-a-half ride home was looonnng!

We continued to check boat projects off the list, while enjoying the company of our fellow cruisers at Port Louis.  Suz and I fell into a routine of heading over to the salt water pool in the early evenings to get in some much-needed exercise swimming laps.  Of course, it helped us cool off after the hot, humid days here in Grenada.  Our awning project remained unfinished, but hey, we had a few more weeks ‘till departure.

Saturday, the 14th of October.  We were headed over to Eco Dive with our friend, Ron by 08h00.  This was the last day of the first annual Dive Pure Grenada week, a week-long celebration of scuba diving in Grenada.  We headed out to the reefs up north to hunt Lionfish.  These beautiful, but nasty little guys are the bane of reef fish from South America all the way north to Maine.  They are an invasive species, native to the South Pacific, and have no natural predators in this hemisphere.  Voracious eaters, they can wipe out whole populations of reef fish, especially the juveniles.  Our mission, along with divers from eight other dive operators here is to bag as many of these bad boys as possible.  We’ll take our catch to Coconuts, a restaurant on Grand Anse beach, where Pat’s crew will cook them up for our dinner tonight.  We dropped over the side, and as we passed through 95 feet, we realized that maybe were in the wrong spot, as the reef was supposed to be at 45’-50’.  After this inauspicious start, the boat dropped us in the right spot.  With Suzanne doing the spotting, Ron and I speared around 15 fish.  The second dive site was much more productive for us-25 fish.  As I was jamming one of my victims into our carrier, I caught one of his spines in my thumb.  Didn’t hurt much at first, but as the venom spread, the feeling of intense heat spread down to my second knuckle.  Yeeouch!!  After an hour or so, it subsided with no ill effects.  (As a protective mechanism, the Lionfish has some 18 venomous spines, located in front of their dorsal, pectoral, and anal fins.  They don’t attack with them, but if one happens to catch you, it’ll really get your attention.  If you mount an allergic reaction, it can be fatal) When we surfaced from the second dive, the wind had come up and whipped the sea surface into a froth.  It rained sideways all the way home, and for a change, we were all cold.  The weigh-in told the tale-our six shooters had netted a little over 80 pounds of fish.  All told, the 9 boats participating took 401 pounds of tasty Lionfish.  That evening, we were joined by other divers at Coconuts for the closing presentations of the first annual dive week.  The assistant minister of tourism gave a short talk, declaring the week a success.  Awards were given to the winners of the underwater photography contest as the photo entries streamed along on a large screen.  Afterwards, live music was provided by a local band, “Solid.” The chefs prepared the fish as a curry, baked with butter and garlic, as a Creole stew, and breaded with panko and deep-fried.  Our table ordered all styles and shared.  The light, white filets lent themselves well to all the preparations, and washed down well with Rhum Punch.

On Monday morning, Dan, Melissa, and Margrite joined us on the number 1 bus to St. George to visit the fort .  Besides changing hands (France and Great Britain) several times in the 18th and 19th centuries, the fort has 20th century significance.  It was there, in 1983, that the Prime Minister, Maurice Bishop, and seven others in his government were executed by the military and other factions of his party, precipitating the intervention by the United States.  Of course, after touring the fort, then the Grenada National Museum, we had to drop by the Chocolate Museum for chocolate shakes.  It was really hot outside!  We got a line on lunch from a local kid, who said that “Rin’s” had good, cheap Roti.  We found the place, but peering through the locked door, it didn’t look promising-basically a 7’x10’ space with a card table in the middle.  No signage, but we suspected that someone might show up at Noon, 10 minutes away.  Sure enough, at around ten after, a couple came down the sidewalk carrying a couple of insulated boxes.  After unlocking the door and plunking the boxes down, they were open for business.  The fare included Chicken, Veggie, Beef or Fish Roti.  Suzanne and I both ordered Chicken.  We wandered down to the water and found some picnic tables in a square by the cruise ship dock.  Eating the Roti was a challenge, as bones were included, but for $10EC ($3.70US), we felt like we did okay.

-Later

30 September, 2017
Posted by tuck on Tuesday, November 7, 2017 - 17:48

The flight back went smoothly, arriving in Grenada at 14h30 after changing planes in Miami.  The Girl was happy to have us back, although she had been well taken care of in our absence.  Randolph and the guys from Island Dreams had kept her clean inside and out, as well as checking on the dehumidifier/air conditioning.  Brett Fairhead’s guys kept her bottom clean, diving her once a month.

The next morning, it was “hammer time”.  Our shipping container had avoided the hurricanes, and Tropical Shipping notified us that it was in the warehouse at the port.  Suzanne contacted Ricky Telesford, our shipping agent, to get things moving through Customs.  To her surprise, he said that everything was already in order, and that he could drive his truck up to the boat and deliver the next business day.  (Just lettin’ you know that this didn’t happen without plenty of effort by the Admiral.  She had emailed receipts for each and every item in the container-a hundred or so, to Ricky weeks before.  Even so, friends had told us that it might take days/weeks to move through Customs).  None of the welding had been started, even though we had met with the welder before we left.  None of the canvas work had been started.  Hey, we’re in the islands.  Problem is, the end of Hurricane Season is the busy time for these guys (which is why we gave them jobs in the Summer).  Several calls, texts, emails to each of them, and we got responses from both, who assured us that they were “just getting around to it” (more or less).  We got in a quick provisioning trip to Foodland, and joined Paul and Sue (Suzanna Aqui, our marina neighbors) for dinner at Victory’s, the marina restaurant, for Barbeque Night.  Over the weekend, we joined Ron, and his wife, Judy for a snorkel trip to the underwater sculpture park, the reef off the Grand Anse beach, and lunch at the L’Anse aux Pines resort.  Ron is the manager at Island Water World, the local boat supply shop, and has the use of the company boat, a 20’ rigid inflatable with a 60 horse outboard.  Very nice for getting from here to there.  Nick, the welder, was true to his word.  His guys showed up on Monday to get going on the welding jobs.  They got the plates for the awning supports started, and said they’d be back the following day to remove the old solar panels.  Suz and I thought we’d keep them focused on the skill job, telling them that we’d have the panels off by the time that they arrived the next day.  All in all, the welding was done well, although it wasn’t the smoothest project that we’ve ever done.  Lots of poor communication and failed deadlines, but completed by the first week of October.  (In his defense, I think that Nick is an artist, not a businessman.)  The canvas guy, Clarke, -not so much.  Lots of no-shows, then he’d show for a few minutes right before dark, take a few measurements, and promise to see us the next day, only to no-show.  (no worries, we thought, not leaving for another month)  Well……the project dragged on.  Lots of excuses (never his fault) meeting at the kids school, car broke down, lost my phone, and on and on.  Would have fired him, but had prepaid him several $K for materials and some labor.

Suz and I got the new solar panels up, and I got the worst sunburn of my life.  I just went out one morning in my boxers to take a quick measurement or two.  Five hours later, as the last panel was going up, one of our neighbors, Torie, walked by and informed me that she could see my red back from the street.  I blistered and bled for nearly three weeks-what a dummy!  We pulled wire, and Nick fabricated a bracket for our new WIFI booster antenna which I installed at the top of our mast (Yes, I still hate heights-coulda’ used a couple Xanax).

Over the next few weeks, we spent a lot of time socializing with fellow cruisers on our dock, and seeing the sights on Grenada:

Saturday is “Market Day” in St. George, and a gang from the marina usually bussed in for fresh veggies and fish.  (to say nothing of a “breakfast beer” for Ken and Dan.)

Sundays started with Mass at the cathedral (never less than 2 hours) followed by Brunch at Whisper Cove marina with any of our neighbors that Suzanne could motivate.  We usually had a bus full.  Afternoons were occupied by the NFL (yes, El Cheapo popped for cable so he could catch some football games).  On alternate Sundays, we’d head over to Eco Dive on Grand Anse for a two-tank dive, usually with Ron (Judy had to return to Florida to work-long distance marriage works for them for now.  She’ll retire next year).  Post dive lunch at Umbrellas was always a treat.

Wednesday was “Pizza Night” at the marina restaurant.

Thursday was “Chicken Night” at Whisper Cove

Suz and I had heard from several sources that Cutty’s Tour was the way to see Grenada, so we signed up, talking Rob and Cindy, aboard “Aventura”, to come along.  Cutty picked us up in his air-conditioned van, and we were off on our day-long adventure.  By the time that the day was done, we had driven nearly the length of the island, visiting Grenada Chocolate Factory, Belmont Estate, Anandale waterfall, River Antoine rum distillery (where we had lunch in their restaurant), a nutmeg depot, and stopping numerous times to identify and/or taste local fruits and vegetables.

True to form, Suzanne cooked.  For Paul and Sue one night, she created a fantastic curry chicken stew that I had been whining about for weeks (having read about it in Ann Vanderhoof’s book “Spice Necklace”).  Another night, it was stuffed, grilled avocado for Torie and Gary. Still another, a special request from Ron put Suzanne’s famous enchiladas on the menu.

I passed on the girls shopping trip, but I understand that Suz, Melissa, and Magrite did some damage in St. George.

Besides the canvas from Clarke’s Upholstery, projects were falling off the “To Do” list daily.  Oh yeah, did I mention that it’s still the “Rainy Season” so any outside activities were punctuated regularly by torrential rainfalls, creating humidity readings in excess of 90% to go along with 89 degree temperatures.

That’s enough for now (maybe too much).

-Later

 

 

19 September, 2017
Posted by tuck on Monday, October 30, 2017 - 15:59

So……A quick Summer synopsis, ‘cause I’m guessin’ you don’t wanna hear about our life on dirt: Alison and Ben bought a house in Ann Arbor last fall, and we saw it for the first time this Summer. Over the course of our Stateside visit, we stayed with them several times, getting back to our roots in the old college town, and helping with a few home-improvement projects. We drove to Charleston for our week at the beach on Isle of Palms for Suzanne’s family’s annual reunion. Both of our kids made it too, so life was good. (even tho’ Ali wasn’t joining in cocktail hour…..Hmmmh!). Spent the front and back sides of that trip in Asheville, with Mike, Sheila (Suz’s sister) and Casey, (Suzanne’s Mom) Found the house to be in great shape after our nine-month absence. Put 2 coats of varnish on the entire interior (White Cedar walls and ceilings). Figure that it’s the last time that we’ll have to do that, since the last time was 20 years ago. Cut up some dead trees that had fallen during the Winter. Had a new outdrive put on the 30 year old runabout (croaked immediately after launching). Enjoyed a jam-packed social calendar, nurturing old relationships with many dear friends. Bill and Lauren (Seastar- St. Lawrence and Newfoundland cruise), Mark and Christine (pals from Michigan), and the crazies from Chicago (our kid’s pals) came for sleepovers and kayaking/canoeing trips down the river. Spending time with Jody and Andy (longtime Michigan pals, and crew on the St. Lawrence and the Bahamas) was long overdue, but again, there wasn’t enough of it. On a sad note, our good friend and neighbor, Kim, diagnosed while were back the previous Summer, lost his battle with Multiple Myeloma just before our return. We had all hoped that he would make it to the Summer, when Suz and I would act as crew so that he and his wife, Cyndy could take one last cruise on their Benetau sailboat, “Endless Dream”. We make plans-God laughs. Although Kim and Cyndy have a loving and supporting family, it’s sometimes good to have some “outsiders” for a different perspective. We like to think that we helped in our own small way. Also, in the Spring, we got the news that our other upnorth friends/neighbors, married for some 30 years had split. Lots of evenings spent with Jayne and Cyndi, trying to be good listeners. We happened to be there at the right time for both of them. (of course, as a Male, I just wanted to FIX things). Hoped that just being there helped in some small way. We needed to send boatstuff to Grenada that was difficult to buy there (including new SunPower solar panels), so made a quick drive to Florida to pack a container, which would be shipped by Tropical Shipping. We packed our rental SUV with boat things- oil, coolant, another flopperstopper bird, computer, bottom paint, WIFI booster, spare parts, some favorite foods, etc. & etc. Drove down on Monday, picked up our new panels (oh yeah, they were too big for the SUV, so we had to rent a truck), packed our container on Tuesday, (container wasn’t full, so we went shopping at Walmart for hurricane-relief supplies to fill it), and drove back to Michigan on Wednesday. (Whoa! Getting’ too old for 44 hours of driving in 72). Bam! Time to go home. Back to Ali and Ben’s. University of Michigan game against Air Force. Tailgating with old friends, Gary, Lynn, Dick and Jan. Ben drives us to the airport at 04h00 to catch our plane south. Oh….That “no Cocktail” thing? The Admiral and I will be Grandparents in late February. Nash Joseph is scheduled to make his debut in late February. Whew! Makes me tired just writin’ it. -Later

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