Keepin up, or trying to...

Ah, “the list.”  I try to think of it as “entertainment.”  Which, may be all that living amounts to:  full immersion entertainment.  Have i already said that?  Well, it’s a theory.

So what has cropped up lately?  Sea Cow’s inflatable floor had a leak i tho’t i had fixed.  On my third attempt to patch it i used a clamp to squeeze the patch over the leak for 24 hours while the glue cured – it worked!  Once again testing Cody’s hypothesis that inanimate objects don’t have a chance...against us animate ones (i’m sure there are exceptions).  My underwater camera quit.  Did i mention that my foul weather pants leak badly?  And my klean kanteen now leaks.  Little things. 

But the big one is that the hydraulic rams that hold the backstay tight began leaking.  A backstay is a necessity if the mast is to continue to stand.  I’m in the process of chasing a fix for this, maybe as late as the Virgin Islands?  Or, if my next crew can bring parts or replacements to me, in Puerto Rico.  Either way, there’s a lot of water between here and there.  So i’ve jury rigged a fix for the backstay (borrowed the blocks and tackles from the running back stays and cranked pressure onto them with the big winches).  While it appears to be a good temporary fix, it may dictate sailing more conservatively…at least until i learn to trust it.  And at least we’re not losing any more hydraulic fluid. 

Etcetera, etcetera.  Each thing crops up and demands attention.  And offers an experience if not a lesson.  I am paying attention.  And hopefully learning.  

South in the Bahamas

Leave we did, before sunset, after dinner and well rested, for a 90 nm overnight sail to Conception Island.  We started with the genoa.  The wind died and we motored for some hours.  The moon was nearly full.  About three in the morning we saw the double layered defined edge of the front stretched across the entire NW horizon and comin’ at us.  Truly threatening.  Lightning flashed here and there.  We battened down, suited up and motored on, waiting for a blast of wind to begin our battle.  Instead, rain began, the wind built slowly and the lightning struck elsewhere.  About 5 am we unrolled the genoa and broad reached fast on seas that hadn’t built yet.  After daybreak we took advantage of a lull in the still building wind to roll up the genoa and hoist the jib, which carried us the rest of our way.  My one disappointment from the night was to find my foul weather pants leak badly.  Tired, our next day was a day to rest and explore. 

Next up?  A short day to Rum Cay (by the way, “Cay” is pronounced “key” here).  Where the guidebook describes a marina, some restaurants and says under a hundred souls live.  We hoped to grocery shop there.  On our approach we tried to raise the marina on our vhf radio.  One of the boats there answered and said that if we were going to come in we better do it soon because high tide had just gone by.  With a little more consideration, we decided to anchor out and dinghy in.  We closely followed the guidebook directions.  And the chart showed a sectional light to follow – the part of its arc that shows red is where the dangers are, the sector that is yellow deserves caution, and the narrow (in this case) white sectors are safe.  While the light itself wasn’t functioning, the chart showed the sectors clearly, so entrance and exit felt clear and safe.  As we arrived we noticed a yacht at anchor that had been anchored at Conception Island.  A Valiant 40 named Gillean.  It often happens that boats headed in the same general direction cross paths repeatedly…and their crews become friends.  Tho we are on a fast pace at this point, i hope i’ll see Gillean again. 

When we dinghied in to the marina, the channel looked terrible and we were glad we hadn’t attempted it.  At the docks, a woman went by in a golf cart.  We waved and chatted, got the lay of the place pretty quickly as there wasn’t much to get:  the marina has been officially closed and moorage is free ever since two hurricanes went by; there are two grocery “stores” (one is closed); and three restaurants (out of which we could extract no food, tho they’d sell us a case of beer for $60 – we passed).  The grocery shack consisted of little more than most pantries i've seen.  We found about 10% of what we were looking for. 

My species aside (we tend to wind down after sunset), we headed back out after dark to take advantage of a favorable forecast – 15 knot NE winds.  Soon to be followed by 25 knot east and SE winds that would make for a much harder time.  The leg before us was 120nm to Mayaguana Island, our last stop in the Bahamas.  From there it’s a long day to the Turks and Caicos.  We could break the ride to Mayaguana down into shorter legs by stopping at Samana and then the Plana Cays.  As it turned out, reaching under genoa alone, we bumped the autopilot one way or the other only occasionally and rarely trimmed or eased the starboard genoa sheet.   We blew right past Samana in the morning.  120nm in 21 hours, we enjoyed dinner in the lee of Mayaguana.

The next day we weighed anchor to motor into the reef protected harbor, picking our way between shallows for 4.5 miles.  But from our anchorage to the reef entrance, we fished for almost 3 miles along the 60 to 80 foot depth contour.  Fishing has become a big focus and excitement for this crew, and the results have been delicious.  We tossed a barracuda back, thanked and filleted a tuna.  The next tuna hit the lure hard.  As Reed reeled in, it gave an extra pull…only the head and a quarter of its body arrived on deck.  A shark (likely) was the cause of that extra pull. 

On the VHF radio, we met Scully.  He seems the local ambassador to the yachties. Oh, and ready to make a buck when he can.  A salesman.  How is it we can sense a lot from someone’s voice and speech?  We couldn’t chat with him without smiling.  More than welcomed, we felt invited.  From him we learned that it was Easter.  That this is Easter Monday and that food and celebration are happenin’.  Also that there is a grocery store and wi-fi.  And for $25 the necessary government person can be engaged on a holiday to check us out of the Bahamas – tho that might not really be necessary.  

We waited a day to dinghy in when the whitecaps subsided.  Some folks watched our approach from their pickup truck.  Willy and Tika said hi and answered our questions to give us bearings.  The "festivities," it turned out were at the other end of the island.  So we didn't join them afterall.  Later we stopped by their bar (Virshay’s) for a beer and a little internet access.  But before that, Reggie came out of his restaurant as we walked by.  He took our orders for lunch right there – i asked what he would recommend from his menu (cracked conch), asked him to add a little lobster and he told us that if we didn’t like the food we wouldn’t have to pay.  We shopped the grocery store next door, which again amounted to little more than a pantry, and had lunch.  It was the best, most tender conch we’ve had yet.  Reggie even took us into the kitchen to show us how he did it.  We added some lettuce and tomatoes from his fridge to our bill and then went to Virshay’s for that beer.   Scully did track us down.  He said he’d get the customs agent for us even tho it was Easter Monday and most of the island was celebrating at the far end of the island.  But the agent didn’t show up and we left our check out papers with Reggie to give to the agent.  

I'm getting used to watching the anchor land on the bottom in even 20' of water?  And seeing the bottom in the light of a full moon.  And i never would have tho’t i would anchor Akimbo in only 7.5 feet of water (with her 6.5 feet of draft).  But we were right at low tide and wanted to get as close in to town as we could.  The reef knocked down any swell, the wind howled, and we ate and slept well.  I hope we find a better grocery source.  This young crew?  Is voracious.  And not just for food.  They are plowing thru my library too.  It’s a sight for sore eyes to witness their appetite for life.  

The Exumas

From Nassau to…Allan’s Cays.  8am to 5:30pm.  Beating with full main and jib in 12 to 15 knots over 12 feet (sometimes 10) of water all day.  Very, very clear water.  It’s unique and fun to watch the shadow of our sails racing beside us on the sandy bottom. 

The forecast turned to westerly winds here.  Such is the month of March everywhere, a month caught in a tug of war between seasons.  Will winter prevail or summer?  Most folks plan their tour of the Exumas around easterly winds.  These low limestone, sand and coral islands run 160 miles northwest to southeast, with countless gaps between them.  A boat can charge along their west sides in strong east winds yet flat water, where the wind hasn’t fetched a sea into any size,  watching their sails’ shadows race them.  This is part of what cruisers look forward to here.  But in a westerly?  Well, there’s again fast smooth sailing in their lee, on their east side in this case, tho in it's in water thousands of feet deep. 

Allan’s Cays very nicely shelters an anchorage from wherever the winds blow.  We appreciated this fact deeply as we ate and slept well.  With Akimbo’s deep keel, there is no exit south from Exuma Bank.  We have to pick and choose our way between particular islands to get east of them and into Exuma Sound.  With the westerlies forecast, it made sense to exit from the Bank the next morning.  But the westerlies were late and we found ourselves beating south again.  From 11am to 6pm.  We turned at Conspicuous Rock (good name) and planned to anchor between Warderick Wells Cay and Hog Cay.  Thus we stumbled into the Exuma Cays Land and Sea Parks, picked up a mooring buoy for the night and improved upon even the previous night’s shelter.  So perfect…it was hard to leave. 

We pumped up Sea Cow and went exploring.  A short hike to the west side of Warderick Wells Cay and we were glad Akimbo rested calmly on the other side.  It was choppy and exposed over there.  A float plane had landed in the anchorage and beached on the island.  I talked with Ralph the pilot.  He worked for the owner of the next island south, Tyler Perry.  Asking him about the local weather, he answered that a big front was headed our way…at 28 knots!  That’s fast.  He said they often didn’t get this far but it looked like this one would.  I reconsidered our plan to sail on before dark. 

Back in the Cow, we motored around Hog Cay and over to a little island with inviting sand beaches.  The sand here is more fine than any i’ve seen.  Almost like flour.  Snorkeling an hour or so, the clarity of the 80 degree water was fantastic. Some fun helped me feel feel like i was arriving at last.  Kristin is a diver and identified fish for us, especially a few to avoid.  Unfortunately, in the parks, we couldn’t harvest the lobster we found,  but it got our hopes up that we may find more later, and meantime the fishing has been good.  Reed fly fishes.  And even tho trolling lacks all the subtleties, he can’t wait to put a line in the water here.  We’ve had blackened mackerel, poached snapper, fish tacos, and sashimi.  And we’re throwin’ barracuda back.  “Livin’ large.”

Rendezvous 2, Crew 3

“Familiar faces in new places.”  There is a thrill to seeing someone you know in a new place.  Metaphorically, it can carry over to seeing them in a new context or new “light.”  A bond takes shape instantly, tied to (of all things) a place.  That thrill is amplified many fold when that person you see, walking down the dock, is someone you love.  I felt something in me relax into Tyler’s arms as we hugged each other on the dock.  I was in the arms of someone who knows me likely more than anyone else.  I was in the arms of someone to whom and with whom my instincts tell me with an incredible certainty that i belong.  Not in a sense of ownership.  A living thing can't be owned, it is its own.  But this belonging is in a sense of presence and relief.  And belonging?  IS a big deal.  I so look forward to living closer to my son.  To being able to meet him for lunch.  What profound luck that i get to make that my priority.  And i apologize to my parents for having moved so far away from them for most of my life.  I could not have known this…until now. 

Ty arrives very fresh from finals in micro-biology and physics.  Whew!  Kristin arrived with him.  No, they aren’t a “couple.”  In fact, this crew is mostly new to each other and they're the youngest crew combo this trip will see.  She is already a sailor.  She just took her captain’s test and hopes to return home to her license and teaching sailing.  I like being able to assume that she knows how to tie a bowline, and what needs to happen to tack, and how to trim.  And i like how taking the helm (tho she’s only a head taller than it) is easy for her.  She’s “got game,” so to speak.  She came to play and doesn’t hesitate.  Meanwhile, Reed has proven to be a quick study, picking up the language and trim and life aboard handily.  So i’ve got good crew for a challenging 740nm leg, with careful navigational in the Bahamas, and a 3 to 400 mile jump to Puerto Rico.   Stowing some $300 in groceries, we're as ready as we're gonna be.

What am i finding so far?

What am i finding so far?  That i am used to being alone on the boat.  So i tend to try to do everything…like i used to.  Cook, trim, steer, navigate, repair, coil, dust, wash dishes, do laundry, manage systems, coil, etc…  I realize that this may get in the way of my crew’s desire to do things too.  So i invite crew to ask me to back off of those things they want to do.  (communication is the key)  Still, i do a lot of things “a certain way.”  So i may answer i’ll do it myself, or maybe i’ll ask if i may show you how i like to do it, or…maybe i’ll just say thank you and leave you to it.  I really do want my crew’s contributions.  I’m just saying that if it doesn’t seem like that?  Well, we need to clarify my intentions.  

What else?  I AM a “neatnick.”  I really appreciate keeping Akimbo clean and stuff in place.  “Fighting the forces of chaos,” i call it.  Thank you. 

And…i have two purposes here.  First is to move Akimbo forward on this route.  Second is for my crew to enjoy the trip, each other and me…and vice versa.  It is (i'm looking for the right word...) it's more than my pleasure to meet you.  It's more profound than that.  But being a tourist doesn't seem to be my purpose, much.  My focus doesn’t branch out much to touring, unless...  Maybe y’all can help me with that. 

I’m also finding that Akimbo’s stitching is tired.  On the dodger.  On the mainsail cover.  On the sock for the drifter.  On the wheel's leather.  Stitching appears that it may be my bane of this trip. 

I’ll let you know what else…as i find it.  

Key West to Nassau

Today (March 15) Reed, John and i departed Key West and headed about 20 miles up the coast to a little anchorage called New Found Harbor.  We started with north winds of 20-25 knots under jib alone.  After a bit we added the double reefed main, which helped considerably to push thru the waves.  And we finished under northeast winds of 10-15.  We motored in the channel.  After stirring up some sand in our reconnaissance, we settled for anchoring in 10-12 feet of water just off the channel.  It was a good day to acclimate the new crew.  Tomorrow we plan to start our overnight passage to the Bahamas. 

Our overnight crossing of the Gulf Stream went well.  In 15 to 20 know winds, under solent jib and full mainsail, we averaged 5 knots again, for 135 nm, arriving at North Cat Cay at about 11am.  We could tell we were near Miami, crossing paths with a lot of cruise ships and tankers.   Best of all, we never had to listen to the engine.  The only blemish for me was when another sailboat appeared behind us in the sunset and proceeded to sail closer to the wind and faster than us, and soon leave us far behind.  Akimbo is no slouch, but the other boat’s performance embarrassed me.  Sorry, Akimbo.  Guess i needed still more humble pie. 

Cat Cay is for rich folk.  As marina customers rather than “guests” or “members,” our access to the island was limited.  When Reed took the bike for a ride he got some questioning looks.  We checked thru customs.   It feels good to have arrived to such beautifully clear and emerald turquoise waters. 

A couple on a Jeaneau 50 pulled into tied up next to us.  They were from England, had crossed the Atlantic to Grenada, and made their way north from there – sort of a mirror image of our Caribbean plans.  I asked if they had any tips.  They said that the islands were lovely and highly individual and too numerous to single one out.  What i should have asked for was more immediate info – like how crossing the Great Bahama Bank went.  We planned to cross it mostly at night but they recommended against that – so we changed our plan and shoved off straight away.  The sailing was delightful up until 6pm when the wind died.  We motored to near Russell shoal and anchored about 15nm from Northwest Channel, where we would exit the Bank.  It was a quiet night.

We woke to overcast skies.  The wind piped up and some rain briefly spat as we finished breakfast dishes.  We weighed anchor, hoisted the jib and sailed.  Soon added the reefed mainsail.  As the wind eased we took the jib down and unrolled the genoa and went to the full mainsail.  Soon rolled up the genoa and hoisted the drifter.  Took the main down…and gave up, taking the drifter down and motoring.  We put the drifter up again when the wind came back.  When it got over 15 knots, we finished the day under the genoa alone.  I think i took too much advantage of having crew for changing sail.  I felt my patience get shorter as we kept chasing the wind changes.  Hopefully i’ll balance better soon. 

A few nights later, the a stiff wind came up from the west and i stood anchor watch the last few hours of the night – with the engine in gear to ease the anchor’s work.  When i consider a 60# anchor dug into a sand bottom and a hundred pounds of chain holding a bucking 35,000# boat!...i am impressed.  Unrolled the genoa and had a RIDE to Nassau.  Where we will pick up our next crew (Kristin and Tyler) and drop off John (Reed continues with us).  Thank you John!  I don’t know if you can appreciate the difference you made by standing your watch on the overnight rides.  And thank you for cheffing…and for your enthusiasm.  

Fishing

I forgot to mention our fishing luck.  “Skill!”  Rick might correct.  But you’ve got to wonder what a #1 planer, a Tony Acetta spoon and a six pack of beer all have in common.  They all caught fish. 

Rick set up our trolling rod and soon caught a mackerel our second or third day out (i believe it’s called a sierra in the Sea of Cortez).  Later that day i caught another bigger one.  Then, at the Dry Tortugas, while we were at anchor, a commercial fishing boat pulled up to us and said they had run out of beer, would we be interested in trading beer for fish.  So our answer was, “of course!”  And THAT was how we caught 8 yellow tail snapper.   What fun. 

 Now that Reed is aboard...we are definitely in fish.  He didn't even nap after crossing the Gulf Stream all night to Cat Cay in the Bahamas.  He went fishin' while wading, caught and released one baracuda, and the other swallowed the hook too deep to survive - thus our first fish tacos of this trip.  My policy is that we don't fish when we've already got some in the freezer.  Well, we've got some good eating to do.