Sorry to have been out of touch for so long. This posting covers a fair bit of ground, so get a cup of tea or a glass of something appropriate before you get started. If I can, I'll post pictures too.
George Town (goodbye George Town!) to Cape Santa Maria on Long Island was a relatively short motor sail, and we anchored just after lunch on Monday, April 3. Very pretty place, marred only by the slow steady roll in the swell coming round the corner, and the pong of the dead pilot whale on the beach. Otherwise, deserted but for ND and Vixen, so it was safe for RS to take off his hat. Randy had been wearing a cap full-time since our last day in George Town, when he unwisely paid for a haircut in a salon with NO MIRROR. He returned sporting a left part and a comb-over. We laughed and laughed, and by the time we reached Long Island, he agreed to let me even it up.
The other exciting thing that happened before we left GT was the bank running out of money. No US funds to be had anywhere, which was very bad timing for us, because we need US $$ once we clear out of the Bahamas. We searched pockets and wallets and have enough for the essentials. And of course, we're basically anchored at deserted islands until we cross over to the Turks and Caicos, so there's little opportunity to spend the Bahamas dollars or find a bank.
Cape Santa Maria to Clarencetown on Tuesday -- a long day which didn't start particularly well. I was below and heard Randy hauling the anchor up, and I thought, hey, that's my job, so hastened up the ladder to fulfill my duties and promptly got smacked in the side of the head with the main boom. He'd also raised the main while I was brushing my teeth. Saw stars, but no worse, and now I have a novel green bruise on my right cheekbone. It was a long motorsail - 43 miles - and we had two sightings of what might have been huge man-o-war jellyfish, or mylar balloons with ribbons. Either choice is entirely believable.The anchorage in Clarencetown was calm and peaceful, and we met Josee and Bill from Ottawa on Caper who dropped by to say hi and stayed for a drink. Meeting people is just that easy.
We topped up with fuel and water at the marina in Clarencetown, and motorsailed (light winds, very close to being on the nose, again) to Landrail Point on Crooked Island where I saw my first green flash at sunset. Spectacular. Had a brief chat with David from the beautiful yacht Aratinga (some pile of varnish, you) while his wife swam a mile along the beach.
Crooked Island to Atwood Harbour on Acklins Island the next day. Sparkly (motor) sail, with the occasional tropicbird soaring overhead. We've been trolling a line every day with no luck, even though Paul and Denise have been picking up enough fish that they throw a few back if they don't look big enough. I suspect Paul trolls at least three lines. This day, I asked the captain what kind of lure I should put on. With his superior knowledge and experience, he suggested "anything that we haven't tried before." So on goes a lurid orange and yellow squid, and we sang "Yellow Bird" as we payed out the line, just for good luck. And about an hour or so later, I hauled in a 2 1/2 foot dolphin fish (mahi mahi). This one fought a lot harder than the last one, and it's a good thing that I've acquired some new muscles, cause he was flipping around too much for Randy to snag him with the gaff, so I FLANG him into the cockpit where Randy dispatched him with alcohol to the gills. Denise and Paul came over for fish dinner, and it was excellent. Two more meals waiting in the freezer.
We hung out at Acklins for several days waiting for the winds to come round, and had some great beach walks. Paul did some spearfishing on the reef next to their boat, and I could hear him saying "Scat! Git!" He'd speared a small snapper and lost part of it to a four-foot barracuda, who then followed him back to the boat. Two days later, the barracuda is still lurking under the boat everytime Paul dips his foot in the water. We've had a benign-looking nurse shark visiting in the evenings. I don't swim off the boat, but when there's a couple of miles of beach, who cares?
The beach at Atwood Harbour wraps around the little bay, and there's probably room for 50 boats, so there's no sense of crowding with four boats. The beaches look pristine, especially by moonlight, but as usual, are loaded with interesting items. Plastic, that's a given: buckets, floats, water bottles, polyprop line, a fleet enema bottle (really), shampoo bottles. Lots of glass too, mainly liquor bottles, intact; and a surprising number of lightbulbs and fluorescent tubes, also intact. Shoes everywhere. I also spotted an amazing nine-foot long mahogany plank, but after much pondering (what will we do with it? where will we keep it?), we left it where it was. This fascination with scouring the beach for interesting detritus is becoming a bit of an obsession. Is it because there's no shopping in our lives? Is it because it's free? Is it because we're becoming bag ladies?
I've got to curb the shell collecting. I've got a lot of shells, but they're mostly really small, except for the conch. There's conch shells everywhere, and they're only unique and beautiful to our northern sensibilities. To the locals, they're lunch, and then they're garbage and they're chucked in piles in the water or on the beach.
Atwood to West Plana Cay - we bailed out of Atwood and had a short motor sail in the morning - lots of wind, lots of big black clouds, and queasy crew after an incredibly rolly night after the wind came round more to the north. The only good thing about West Plana Cay was that got us closer to the Turks and Caicos, cause otherwise, it was even rollier than Attwood Harbour. Competing swells just about wore us out, and as soon as we heard Chris Parker at 7 saying that there was a clear spot in all the squalls and crap from West Plana to Mayaguana, we were out of there. Arrived Mayaguana early afternoon, asleep by 7:30 pm. The next day we dropped the dinghy and "went to town" to clear out of the Bahamas. The town administration office is where everything happens: most-wanted posters, immigration, forms for anything and everything, but bring your own pen. Right next door is the Batelco office (phone). Four phone booths outside, but three had regular phones sitting on shelves, and one had a payphone, which didn't work. So I went into the office with my Batelco "HELLO" card, and the nice young man said that probably wouldn't work here (although we are still in the Bahamas, and nothing else will work), since they were having some "work" done. He figured out a way that I could make my two short calls, but of course, nobody I wanted to talk to was home (except Laura, and I always wake her up. Sorry Laura).
We walked a little further into town to find the grocery store, which was closed, but there was a young fella on the road yelling at another fella in a truck a few houses away. Second fella was the person who would open the grocery store, and first fella wanted him to hurry up. "Pick a speed," he hollers. So the store finally got opened, but only after he dashed through the rain to take down the laundry from the line next door and take it in the house, and then we spent $17 dollars on nine green bananas, two yellow apples, and one box of Little Debbie Pecan Wheels.
We headed out of Mayaguana around noon, threading our way back through the five miles of coral heads to get past the reefs and make the turn to get to South East Point -- a good starting spot for a night run to Turks and Caicos -- but the wind was, you guessed it, bing-bang on the nose. We were sitting between two big squalls that sort of hung around all afternoon, so we turned around and headed back to the old fuel dock just outside of Abraham's Bay. "Aratinga" was coming out just behind us and heard us on the radio and suggested it would be a good spot to park, so we all ended up there. Caught a bar jack on the way over. There was a couple of local guys fishing from a small boat -- one in the water diving for conch, and the other cleaning conch and alternately singing and dancing, and waving his arms and cursing the other guy for not letting him dive. They came by the boat later (which was full of conch and fish and a very big turtle, which made us feel bad) and we traded two conch for two cans of Kalik, but what they really wanted was Coke.
David from Aratinga stopped by and invited us over for a drink (we got off the boat!! yay!!) and we went and had a lovely couple of hours talking non-stop about boats and enjoying a respite from the rolly water. Aratinga is a 60' Alden and beautiful inside and out. They actually take care of their varnish. Penny swims a mile a day, with a snorkel and mask, so she has good knowledge of what's underwater. They had two slipper lobsters that they'd fished out from a coral head an hour earlier. Neither of us had ever seen or even heard of slipper lobsters, but yes, they look like a cross between your dad's leather bedroom slipper and a lobster. Penny said that the fishermen had stopped by their boat earlier as well, and they wanted $300 dollars to let the turtle go. Entrepreneurs.
David ferried us back to our boat at around 8, and we hit the bunk and lay there looking at the ceiling for a couple of hours, then got underway at about midnight, headed for Turks and Caicos. Beautiful full moon, nice breeze, seasick crew. Randy drove all night, except for a few short breaks, and other than both GPS units crapping out, it was a great sail. Big swell by the time we got into T&C, but that flattened out once we got on the banks. And contrary to Mr. Van Sant's instructions, it really isn't a good scene trying to navigate over to Sapodilla Bay with the morning sun smack in your eyes. We tried tacking back and forth, to get a clear view of the water, but basically, we were following Vixen (working GPS on board) and crossing our fingers. I was standing on the bowsprit for an hour and a half, but I'm not sure I was providing any useful information back to the helm. Mostly I just shaded my eyes and tried to hang on and not go to sleep. We made it, and the capts headed ashore to clear in, and I figured I'd hit the bunk. Just as I was about to turn off the VHF, I heard a sailboat trying to make contact with someone who would do something about the dead body that he had just discovered floating off Turtle Rock (which we'd passed earlier). Nobody could raise the police on the radio, and finally, the sailboat left after hearing that someone was going to transmit the coordinates to the police and somebody would respond. A bit spooky. I wonder what would have happened if it had been a white person in the water.
We slept for about two hours in the afternoon, had a great meal of fresh bar jack and scalloped potatoes (comfort food is good when you've been seasick and haven't slept well four nights out of the last six) and hit the bunk again at 7:30. Today, we're off to sample the pleasures of buying stuff in stores. Vegetables. Chips. Rum. The plan from here is to sail down to South Caicos across the banks, then to Big Sand Cay south of Grand Turk to wait for a window to cross to the Dominican Republic. If the forecast holds true(that would be a first) we could be in the DR by Wed/Thurs.
PS. I'd had hopes that I could post this in T&C, but no go. We got a ride into town with one Susan Clark, who said she was headed for the internet cafe, the bookstore and the grocery store and did we want a ride? I think that was more intuition and kindness than coincidence, and we were most grateful. It was about seven or eight miles one way. I was able to read about half my email in the half-hour I paid $10 for (slow, slow connection), and was not able to connect to blogger at all. So frustrating. As of today, April 19, we're safe in Luperon after a lovely, uneventful night crossing, and I'll try to update again before we leave here. I'm hoping we'll get to check our email several times while we're here, so send news. This place is gorgeous.
George Town (goodbye George Town!) to Cape Santa Maria on Long Island was a relatively short motor sail, and we anchored just after lunch on Monday, April 3. Very pretty place, marred only by the slow steady roll in the swell coming round the corner, and the pong of the dead pilot whale on the beach. Otherwise, deserted but for ND and Vixen, so it was safe for RS to take off his hat. Randy had been wearing a cap full-time since our last day in George Town, when he unwisely paid for a haircut in a salon with NO MIRROR. He returned sporting a left part and a comb-over. We laughed and laughed, and by the time we reached Long Island, he agreed to let me even it up.
The other exciting thing that happened before we left GT was the bank running out of money. No US funds to be had anywhere, which was very bad timing for us, because we need US $$ once we clear out of the Bahamas. We searched pockets and wallets and have enough for the essentials. And of course, we're basically anchored at deserted islands until we cross over to the Turks and Caicos, so there's little opportunity to spend the Bahamas dollars or find a bank.
Cape Santa Maria to Clarencetown on Tuesday -- a long day which didn't start particularly well. I was below and heard Randy hauling the anchor up, and I thought, hey, that's my job, so hastened up the ladder to fulfill my duties and promptly got smacked in the side of the head with the main boom. He'd also raised the main while I was brushing my teeth. Saw stars, but no worse, and now I have a novel green bruise on my right cheekbone. It was a long motorsail - 43 miles - and we had two sightings of what might have been huge man-o-war jellyfish, or mylar balloons with ribbons. Either choice is entirely believable.The anchorage in Clarencetown was calm and peaceful, and we met Josee and Bill from Ottawa on Caper who dropped by to say hi and stayed for a drink. Meeting people is just that easy.
We topped up with fuel and water at the marina in Clarencetown, and motorsailed (light winds, very close to being on the nose, again) to Landrail Point on Crooked Island where I saw my first green flash at sunset. Spectacular. Had a brief chat with David from the beautiful yacht Aratinga (some pile of varnish, you) while his wife swam a mile along the beach.
Crooked Island to Atwood Harbour on Acklins Island the next day. Sparkly (motor) sail, with the occasional tropicbird soaring overhead. We've been trolling a line every day with no luck, even though Paul and Denise have been picking up enough fish that they throw a few back if they don't look big enough. I suspect Paul trolls at least three lines. This day, I asked the captain what kind of lure I should put on. With his superior knowledge and experience, he suggested "anything that we haven't tried before." So on goes a lurid orange and yellow squid, and we sang "Yellow Bird" as we payed out the line, just for good luck. And about an hour or so later, I hauled in a 2 1/2 foot dolphin fish (mahi mahi). This one fought a lot harder than the last one, and it's a good thing that I've acquired some new muscles, cause he was flipping around too much for Randy to snag him with the gaff, so I FLANG him into the cockpit where Randy dispatched him with alcohol to the gills. Denise and Paul came over for fish dinner, and it was excellent. Two more meals waiting in the freezer.
We hung out at Acklins for several days waiting for the winds to come round, and had some great beach walks. Paul did some spearfishing on the reef next to their boat, and I could hear him saying "Scat! Git!" He'd speared a small snapper and lost part of it to a four-foot barracuda, who then followed him back to the boat. Two days later, the barracuda is still lurking under the boat everytime Paul dips his foot in the water. We've had a benign-looking nurse shark visiting in the evenings. I don't swim off the boat, but when there's a couple of miles of beach, who cares?
The beach at Atwood Harbour wraps around the little bay, and there's probably room for 50 boats, so there's no sense of crowding with four boats. The beaches look pristine, especially by moonlight, but as usual, are loaded with interesting items. Plastic, that's a given: buckets, floats, water bottles, polyprop line, a fleet enema bottle (really), shampoo bottles. Lots of glass too, mainly liquor bottles, intact; and a surprising number of lightbulbs and fluorescent tubes, also intact. Shoes everywhere. I also spotted an amazing nine-foot long mahogany plank, but after much pondering (what will we do with it? where will we keep it?), we left it where it was. This fascination with scouring the beach for interesting detritus is becoming a bit of an obsession. Is it because there's no shopping in our lives? Is it because it's free? Is it because we're becoming bag ladies?
I've got to curb the shell collecting. I've got a lot of shells, but they're mostly really small, except for the conch. There's conch shells everywhere, and they're only unique and beautiful to our northern sensibilities. To the locals, they're lunch, and then they're garbage and they're chucked in piles in the water or on the beach.
Atwood to West Plana Cay - we bailed out of Atwood and had a short motor sail in the morning - lots of wind, lots of big black clouds, and queasy crew after an incredibly rolly night after the wind came round more to the north. The only good thing about West Plana Cay was that got us closer to the Turks and Caicos, cause otherwise, it was even rollier than Attwood Harbour. Competing swells just about wore us out, and as soon as we heard Chris Parker at 7 saying that there was a clear spot in all the squalls and crap from West Plana to Mayaguana, we were out of there. Arrived Mayaguana early afternoon, asleep by 7:30 pm. The next day we dropped the dinghy and "went to town" to clear out of the Bahamas. The town administration office is where everything happens: most-wanted posters, immigration, forms for anything and everything, but bring your own pen. Right next door is the Batelco office (phone). Four phone booths outside, but three had regular phones sitting on shelves, and one had a payphone, which didn't work. So I went into the office with my Batelco "HELLO" card, and the nice young man said that probably wouldn't work here (although we are still in the Bahamas, and nothing else will work), since they were having some "work" done. He figured out a way that I could make my two short calls, but of course, nobody I wanted to talk to was home (except Laura, and I always wake her up. Sorry Laura).
We walked a little further into town to find the grocery store, which was closed, but there was a young fella on the road yelling at another fella in a truck a few houses away. Second fella was the person who would open the grocery store, and first fella wanted him to hurry up. "Pick a speed," he hollers. So the store finally got opened, but only after he dashed through the rain to take down the laundry from the line next door and take it in the house, and then we spent $17 dollars on nine green bananas, two yellow apples, and one box of Little Debbie Pecan Wheels.
We headed out of Mayaguana around noon, threading our way back through the five miles of coral heads to get past the reefs and make the turn to get to South East Point -- a good starting spot for a night run to Turks and Caicos -- but the wind was, you guessed it, bing-bang on the nose. We were sitting between two big squalls that sort of hung around all afternoon, so we turned around and headed back to the old fuel dock just outside of Abraham's Bay. "Aratinga" was coming out just behind us and heard us on the radio and suggested it would be a good spot to park, so we all ended up there. Caught a bar jack on the way over. There was a couple of local guys fishing from a small boat -- one in the water diving for conch, and the other cleaning conch and alternately singing and dancing, and waving his arms and cursing the other guy for not letting him dive. They came by the boat later (which was full of conch and fish and a very big turtle, which made us feel bad) and we traded two conch for two cans of Kalik, but what they really wanted was Coke.
David from Aratinga stopped by and invited us over for a drink (we got off the boat!! yay!!) and we went and had a lovely couple of hours talking non-stop about boats and enjoying a respite from the rolly water. Aratinga is a 60' Alden and beautiful inside and out. They actually take care of their varnish. Penny swims a mile a day, with a snorkel and mask, so she has good knowledge of what's underwater. They had two slipper lobsters that they'd fished out from a coral head an hour earlier. Neither of us had ever seen or even heard of slipper lobsters, but yes, they look like a cross between your dad's leather bedroom slipper and a lobster. Penny said that the fishermen had stopped by their boat earlier as well, and they wanted $300 dollars to let the turtle go. Entrepreneurs.
David ferried us back to our boat at around 8, and we hit the bunk and lay there looking at the ceiling for a couple of hours, then got underway at about midnight, headed for Turks and Caicos. Beautiful full moon, nice breeze, seasick crew. Randy drove all night, except for a few short breaks, and other than both GPS units crapping out, it was a great sail. Big swell by the time we got into T&C, but that flattened out once we got on the banks. And contrary to Mr. Van Sant's instructions, it really isn't a good scene trying to navigate over to Sapodilla Bay with the morning sun smack in your eyes. We tried tacking back and forth, to get a clear view of the water, but basically, we were following Vixen (working GPS on board) and crossing our fingers. I was standing on the bowsprit for an hour and a half, but I'm not sure I was providing any useful information back to the helm. Mostly I just shaded my eyes and tried to hang on and not go to sleep. We made it, and the capts headed ashore to clear in, and I figured I'd hit the bunk. Just as I was about to turn off the VHF, I heard a sailboat trying to make contact with someone who would do something about the dead body that he had just discovered floating off Turtle Rock (which we'd passed earlier). Nobody could raise the police on the radio, and finally, the sailboat left after hearing that someone was going to transmit the coordinates to the police and somebody would respond. A bit spooky. I wonder what would have happened if it had been a white person in the water.
We slept for about two hours in the afternoon, had a great meal of fresh bar jack and scalloped potatoes (comfort food is good when you've been seasick and haven't slept well four nights out of the last six) and hit the bunk again at 7:30. Today, we're off to sample the pleasures of buying stuff in stores. Vegetables. Chips. Rum. The plan from here is to sail down to South Caicos across the banks, then to Big Sand Cay south of Grand Turk to wait for a window to cross to the Dominican Republic. If the forecast holds true(that would be a first) we could be in the DR by Wed/Thurs.
PS. I'd had hopes that I could post this in T&C, but no go. We got a ride into town with one Susan Clark, who said she was headed for the internet cafe, the bookstore and the grocery store and did we want a ride? I think that was more intuition and kindness than coincidence, and we were most grateful. It was about seven or eight miles one way. I was able to read about half my email in the half-hour I paid $10 for (slow, slow connection), and was not able to connect to blogger at all. So frustrating. As of today, April 19, we're safe in Luperon after a lovely, uneventful night crossing, and I'll try to update again before we leave here. I'm hoping we'll get to check our email several times while we're here, so send news. This place is gorgeous.
posted by Susan at 11:41 AM
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