Nov 27

We had a good night's sleep.  We stayed up late (for island time living) about 21:00.  There isn't much to do after dark when you don't have TV.  After coffee, cereal, and showers, we headed out for a walk.  Spanish Cay is about three miles long.  The marina is near the southern end of it.  We headed north toward the airstrip.  We passed the condos which are still boarded up from when Wilma passed by here, passed the "facilities" where the generator for the island is always running, and finally reached the airstrip.  The runway is a mile long and there is a hanger and a house-sized building to act as a terminal and Customs office when people arrive by plane.  There is also an area to tie down planes while here.  We walked all the way to the end of the runway, which is the northern tip of the island.  On our way back, we went out by the condos to Wreckers Bar and Restaurant, which is only open "in season".  It looks like it sustained a little storm damage but not too bad.  All told, we walked about five miles.  We saw several interesting things, like a hermit crab alongside the road that I picked up and put in the road so I could take a picture of him (then I put him back in the grass), some conch shells imbedded in the root system of a tree, a couple of areas cleared like they are going to build houses on them, and again, a surprising amount of litter along the road and on the shores.  Near the airstrip, there is a lagoon where boats can anchor.  There was one powerboat anchored here, although the new cruising guide we bought says the island's owners would rather this not be used as an anchorage.  A guy who works here (I think) came by on a golf cart and offered us a ride.  We explained that we needed the exercise after being on the boat a few days, and declined.

Back at the boat, we relaxed and read a little, then went on another little tour, which included the store.  The prices are pretty amazing, and made us feel good about stocking up so much before we left.  A squeeze bottle of mayo here is $5.00 - we paid $2.69 in Florida.  Several other things were also about double.

I still can't get over that fact that this place is empty.  We are one of four boats in the marina (80 slips) and we are the only occupied boat.  There is one condo occupied.  I don't know if it a visitor or a permanent resident.  I would think that even if the big season is south of here, they could get plenty of frozen Yankees down here year round.  They have a nice pool, hot tub, tennis courts, two restaurants and bars, and a couple miles of beaches.

I am having online access withdrawal issues.  The satellite phone seems to be receiving mail fine, but not sending it out.  The wireless connection at the marina, which is outrageously priced, works sometimes, but even through that I have had trouble sending mail to my whole list.  May have to take the computer with me to New Orleans in January so I can do some communicating with various tech support entities while in the US.

GPS N 26-56.288 W 77-31.453  Miles made good this leg 0.  Total miles covered 3634.

Nov 28

We woke with the sun.  It seems that when we are away from civilization, (TV) we go to bed early and awake early.  More of a natural cycle.  After coffee we went up to shower.  We were both done with our showers and drying off, when the lights went out.  I had just put my pants on, so I found the door in the dark and wedged the trash can in it to let in some light from the hallway which had windows to outside.  I then knocked on the ladies room door and hollered to Barb.  Once I opened the door and she could see, she did the same.  We finished our tooth brushing etc. and headed back to the boat.  The lady from the office saw us on the porch and told us the power would be off for a couple of hours.  Ah, island life.

We started to get things in order to get underway.  I went up the office to check out, and they couldn't actually do the credit card with no power, but they had the bill already printed out and everything was in order.  We got an extra bag of ice and shoved off.  The wind was right on the nose, so backing out of the slip was no problem.  We had planned on getting fuel here, but again, no power, no pump, so we'll do it on down the road.

Our first destination today is Cooperstown.  It is a small town on Great Abaco Island.  The cruising guide says it has a couple of stores, a couple of restaurants, and a museum.  Given the wind direction today though, it is not a place to stay overnight.  We motored the four miles from Spanish Cay, across the channel to Cooperstown.  After cruising the length of town and back, we dropped the hook just off the shore by one of the restaurants.  The water was quite rough from the southeast wind that was blowing about 15.  We lowered the dinghy and then the motor.  It was not easy getting the motor on the dinghy with the water so rough, but we did it.  We then headed for shore expecting to walk around for an hour or two and maybe have lunch.  Once at the shore though, we couldn't find a place to land the dinghy.  The shoreline itself is very rocky.  We tried to come up to a dock that has been damaged by storms but somewhat repaired, but getting tied to it and then up the ladder in the rough surge was too much.  So, we backed off and went back to the boat.  Since the water was so rough, I didn't want to tow the dinghy with the motor on it, so we reversed the process of hoisting the motor, then the dinghy.

On to the second part of the plan.  We motored about four miles back across the channel to Powell Cay.  Powell Cay is an uninhabited island with quite a long stretch of nice beach.  We slowly made our way in as close to shore as we dared and anchored in about eight feet of water at low tide.  The winds are from the southeast, so the island blocks much of the swell, although it still is a bit rolly.  We went through the dinghy act again, although it was not as hard in the calmer waters. 

We loaded ourselves, the camera, a couple bottles of water and a towel in and headed for the beach.  Before we went in though, we followed our anchor chain to look at how the anchor was set.  In Ft. Pierce we bought a bucket with a clear plastic bottom.  The salesman there referred to it as a Bahamian TV.  The point is you stick it in the water and you can clearly see the bottom without getting in with your mask on.  So we were able to see that the anchor was securely buried in the sand and grass bottom.  We pulled the dinghy up on the beach and started to look around.  The first thing we had noticed from the boat was a monument of sorts built from crap that washed ashore.  We looked it over and then hiked through the underbrush  a couple hundred feet to the ocean side of the island.  The lagoon on this side was beautiful and obviously very shallow.  We could see the waves breaking on the outer reef, and then again at the edge of the lagoon.  There was another monument of flotsam on this beach.  We picked up a double-ended kayak paddle down the beach and added it to the monument.  We crossed back through the brush back to our side of the island and walked the beach back to where the dinghy was thinking about having an escape, since the tide was coming in.  We dragged it higher on the beach and walked some more.  There was a place where somebody had built benches and a bar between trees at the edge of the beach.  I'm sure some parties have been had here.

While standing on the beach, Barb noticed something in the water about fifty feet offshore.  She joked that it was a shark fin.  Well, it was.  We knew it wasn't something floating by when it turned an went against the current.  About the same time, I spotted a large sting ray in about a foot of water right in front of us.  I grabbed the camera and walked along with the ray and got a few pictures.  I got one of the shark too.

I am extremely dismayed by the amount of trash we have seen so far.  I was really surprised by what we saw on Spanish Cay, since it is a resort, you would think they would have workers pick stuff up.  The amount of crap on the beached at Powell Cay was really disturbing.  Some of it was probably left by thoughtless partiers, but the majority of it I suspect washed up onshore from somewhere else.  It's sad.

After getting tired of walking we launched the dinghy again and cruised the coast a little.  There is some type of little dredge barge sunken just off the shore.  We went around to another cove and beach and almost ran over a sunken boat that was just below the surface.  Once we looked around there with the bucket, we headed back to the boat.  We stowed the dinghy, since the water is pretty rough and it will jerk at the line if we leave it in the water.  We spent a couple hours reading and had a nice dinner.  A little before dark a powerboat pulled in the same area and anchored for the night.  There goes the neighborhood.

GPS N 26-54.044 W 77-28.951  Miles made good this leg 8.  Total miles covered 3642.

Nov 29

Ah the dichotomy of the wind for a sailor.  I may have mused about this before, but it's fresh in my memory again.  Obviously a sailboat needs the wind, not too much and not too little, from the right direction, to sail.  But, the wind makes waves, and it would be much nicer to sail on flat seas.  And if the wind is right on the nose, as it seems to always be, you get the waves anyway, but you still have to motor.  The other dichotomy of the wind is at night.  There is nothing sweeter than being in a remote anchorage, by yourself or at least a fair distance from any other boats, in flat water with no wind, listening to the sounds of nature on the shore, or perhaps the absolute silence of nature.  But, (there's always a but isn't there?) the wind makes the wind generator turn and make that precious thing we rely on too much called electricity.  But when the wind blows hard enough to spin the generator enough to keep up with our creature comforts like a fridge and freezer and a few lights and the stereo, then there is a lot of noise.  Not just from the spinning windmill blades, but also the noise through the rigging, the flapping of anything loose on deck like the sides of the cockpit enclosure, and the noise of the waves (remember wind = waves) on the hull.  And, of course, you worry about the anchor being secure and keeping you in one place, even though you looked at it after setting it and saw that it had dug a foot deep furrow in the bottom that any farmer would be proud of.

That pretty much describes how last night was.  The wind blew about fifteen knots all night, consistently from the southeast.  That meant we were taught on the anchor chain all night, hardly swinging back and forth at all as we would do in lesser winds.  The wind generator was spinning merrily and produced a record amount of juice.  Not as much as we used overnight, but we probably had the least deficit of amp hours I have ever seen.  But, I slept fitfully due to the combination of the noise and worrying about the anchor dragging.  I was up several times to check, and we were right in the same place.  Even if we dragged, we would have to drag a couple of miles before we got to shallow enough water to matter.  We had gone to bed about 19:30 which didn't help since by midnight I had as much sleep as I used to get some nights back in the working days.

As soon as it started getting light, I got up.  Everything was fine, but I was ready to be done with this night.  We had coffee and cereal, and I tried to tune into the morning radio nets that cruisers listen to to get weather info and check in with one another.  There is a Bahamas net carried on VHF channel 68, but we were just out of range.  I could hear tidbits, but not enough.  There are also several nets on the sideband radio which I am still trying to figure out how to use.  We are relying on two e-mail sources for our weather data which is working fine since we can get mail on the satellite phone.

Speaking of the satellite phone, I was receiving mail fine but having trouble sending.  I got a message off to support and got an answer to try to update the driver for my serial-to-USB cable.  I was able to do that and now sending seems to work.  It certainly works to a single recipient.  There may still be an issue with sending to a list of people, but when I did that I know a lot of people got it.  Just don't know if everybody did.

About 08:30 we hoisted anchor.  Considering how well it was buried, it came up pretty easy when we drove over it with the chain taught around the windlass.  We headed off to the next island south.  Manjack Cay (pronounced Munjack Key) is about eight miles south of Powell Cay.  To get there though you have to go around a shallow area, so the trip was just over ten miles.  Manjack Cay and Crab Cay are right next to each other, and we actually anchored right up near the northern shore of Crab Cay in about eight feet of water.  There is one other boat here, a catamaran, and they are at least a quarter mile further in the bay than us since cats can generally get in shallower water than a monohull.  We dropped the hook about 10:00.  This reminds me of our charters in the BVI, when moving between anchorages just took a couple hours and then you had all day to play.

We launched the dinghy to go look at the anchor with the bucket, but when I started it the motor wouldn't idle.  So, I took the time to figure out how to assemble the oar locks and actually row the dinghy somewhere.  This sounds like a simple task, and to a five-year-old it would have probably been a piece of cake, but it took me several minutes to figure the system out.  I guess it's better to figure it out now while tied to the mother ship, than someday if the motor quit and I was drifting off to Europe.  After rowing over and checking the anchor, I attacked the motor.  I took the cover off and started messing with the idle adjustment, but it just wouldn't keep running.  This motor is really pissing me off.  How could it run fine yesterday and not work today?  So for the sixth or seventh time I took the carburetor apart, blew through all the little pieces, saw nothing wrong, and put it back together.  I started it up again and it ran!  I had to adjust the throttle linkage since it had been disconnected, and I tried doing it with the engine running and the cover off, as I have done every other time.  Well, I knew that f I did this enough times, I would touch my fingers to the spinning flywheel.  Finally did, and took a nice little chunk out of the side of my middle finger right by the fingernail.  It's really not a big deal except that any cut that is constantly being exposed to salt water and all the little critters within, takes a long time to heal and risks infection.  (Right Brian?)  Also, while fetching tools for me, Barb jammed her little toe as she was climbing in and out of the cockpit.  Something she does many times a day, but this time misjudged it.  From the pain, swelling, and black and blue mark, I'd guess it's broken.

Well, after all this, we had to take the dinghy to shore.  So Barb made a couple of sandwiches, threw a couple of cold lemonades and a bag of chips in a bag, and we went off for a picnic on the beach.  So in our recently overhauled dinghy, we went zipping at full speed across the bay for about a mile and a half to a nice beach with a dock.  We passed a nice beach that is right in front of the three houses on the island and didn't stop there because we didn't know if it was private.  Turned out to be the right decision.  At the large beach where we went, there was a good dock to tie the dink to without beaching it, and there were several picnic tables under some pine trees.  The cruising guide had mentioned that there had been a development started on the island and there were roads and a nature path and the public was welcome.  Well, this was it.  There was a sign that welcomed you and just asked that you take your mess with you.

We ate our sandwiches and then went for a walk along the "road".  The road reminded me of the trails through the woods that my grandfather cut when I was a child.  He did this so that he could drive my invalid mother out in the woods so she could enjoy it too.  The trails were barely wide enough in some spots to get a car through.  This trail was the same in that there were places where the bushes were winning the battle, even though there was some evidence of recent trimming.  I noticed many survey markers along the way.  They were pieces of rebar (that'll last in the salty environment) with a blob of concrete on top and a piece of pink surveyors ribbon tied to them.  Several places had rough paths cut in the brush to survey a line, which brought back memories of my first job doing all that cutting for the land surveyor that my brother and I both worked for.  Barb was limping and considered not talking the walk, but when we got to the end, we were rewarded for our efforts.  It had been about half a mile, and there was a noticeable hill at the end.  We could hear the surf over this hill.  We climbed the fifteen foot embankment and were greeted first with a covered wooden deck with benches, that was adorned with numerous souvenirs from past visitors, and then a spectacular beach and the Atlantic Ocean breaking on the outer reef and going on forever.  The colors of the inner bay were spectacular blues and greens and turquoises.  Even I, the color impaired one, appreciated the colors.  The sand on the beach was powdery soft, and we sunk in a couple of inches with each step.  There were two sets of barefoot footprints going along the beach that looked fresh, but we never saw anybody else.  After enjoying the view for a bit and checking out the boat names and dates on the deck, we headed back.

The ride to this beach was with the waves.  Now we were going to have to into the waves to get back.  The "waves" was really just a one-foot chop for the most part.  There are two ways to handle water like this in a dinghy.  You can go slow and splash through each wave and get very wet, or you can get up on a plane and bash across the waves, staying dry, but putting your back and kidneys in shock.  We chose the fast way.  Once back across the bay and near the boat, we took a little detour along the shore in the shallow water.  We looked around at the remains of a barge and tug that had gone ashore long ago and were being reclaimed by nature.  On the shore right by this barge was a large steel-tracked steam shovel machine that was also rusting away and crumbling into the earth.  We followed the shore about a half a mile toward the inner edge of the bay.  The bottom is sandy with sea grass growing in it.  Every now and then there are spots with no grass, which are very obvious from the surface because they are a light green instead of dark.  As we were crossing one of the sand patches, I spotted two huge rays.  They were both over two feet across.  We followed one of them for a bit.  Barb was watching him through the glass-bottom bucket as I tried to stay over him.  He almost led me into water too shallow for the dinghy, but I stopped in time.  We also spotted several starfish that were a good ten inches or so across.

After all this excitement we finally went back to the boat.  We had made it without having to row anymore.  I would not have wanted to row back as far as we had gone.  We spent a couple hours reading until the sun went down.  We have had spectacular sunsets the last two nights, but not tonight as there is a cloud bank off to the west.  Speaking of reading, it's one of the things I have been looking forward to since we left.  It seems I have never made time to read much.  I have always just barely kept up with the couple of magazines I subscribed to.  I guess I let TV and the Internet dominate my discretionary time over the years.  Well, now there is no TV, and the Internet time has to be managed closely, so I am reading.  I bought Jimmy Buffett's latest book a year ago when it came out, but I hadn't started reading it yet, because I wanted to re-read Tales From Margaritaville first.  I had read Tales From Margaritaville fifteen years ago, but didn't remember it.  The character in the new book was introduced in the old book.  Well starting at Spanish Cay, I read Tales in two days.  Today I read the first hundred pages of A Salty Piece of Land.  In the meantime, Barb has read the entire series of a dozen books about Florida by Randy Wayne White that Tammy loaned her when we passed through Tampa in July.

Tonight looks like it will be a beautiful night to sleep.  Which implies the batteries will get more use than last night.  There is no wind at all.  We took showers on deck after dark and enjoyed another good dinner.  We haven't eaten in a restaurant for a week now.  That may be a record.

GPS N 26-48.949 W 77-21.771  Miles made good this leg 10.  Total miles covered 3652.

Nov 30

I was correct about a quiet night's sleep.  The wind stayed calm, which meant we were down a little over two hundred amp-hours in the morning.  We were in no hurry to leave, since we are only going a few miles today.  I started the motor to make some electricity while Barb cooked us a real breakfast of eggs and hash browns.  By the time we had finished breakfast, the motor had been running about an hour.  I figured that the trip to Green Turtle Cay would take an hour, and that ought to have us charged up.

While we were sitting in the cockpit before breakfast, a large ray had jumped out of the water a couple hundred feet from us.  We didn't know that rays actually jumped out of the water.

About 10:20, we got underway.  Our destination is White Sound, on Green Turtle Cay.  Green Turtle Cay has about 450 residents, several marinas, several stores, restaurants, shops, etc.  There are supposed to be moorings available, as well as an anchorage.  We plan to take a mooring, so we don't have to be concerned with the forecast wind shifts over the next few days.  There are two main places to anchor on Green Turtle - White Sound and Black Sound.  Black Sound has a shallower entrance according to the cruising guides, so we chose to use White Sound.  Besides, White Sound is where the Green Turtle Club is, and we saw a couple wearing Green Turtle Club t-shirts back in Annapolis, so it seemed right.

We approached the entrance to the White Sound channel about 11:15, which was about two hours before low tide.  We crossed the shallows at the entrance to the channel with a foot to spare, so I was feeling pretty good.  We proceeded up the channel about half a mile, and got to a point just before it opens to a deep bay where there should have been two more channel markers, but there were none.  Looking at the chart plotter, it looked like I should be staying to the right side of the channel, so I turned that way.  Suddenly, we went from six and a half feet to five and a quarter feet and stopped.  We are five and a half feet deep, so five and a quarter didn't work.  I had really hoped to be in the Bahamas more than a week before I went aground, but that was not to be.  (I can hear Brian laughing from Tampa now.)   I tried to back up, but we didn't move.  Within ten minutes a guy in a dinghy came from the anchorage to help.  He said he had helped many boats off this spot before.  His plan was to push our bow sideways to pivot us back into the deeper water.  Unfortunately, I had been going about four knots when we hit bottom, so we were firmly planted in the sand.  As I mentioned, the tide was going out, so we had a while to wait.

Several other passing boats waved and offered to help, and one tried to pull us off with no success.  We were going to be here a while.  I have found, that I am not a patient person.  When it comes to having patience with others, like when a waitress screws up your order, I have infinite patience.  But when I have to just sit and wait, I don't enjoy it.  One guy that came by suggested we go to lunch or swimming because it would be a few hours.  I couldn't even relax and read my book.  I wanted to be doing something to get going, but there was nothing to do except wait for Mother Nature to bring back the water.  At it's lowest, I could see a good six inches of our bottom paint.  Something we haven't seen lately since after loading all our crap onboard, the bottom paint is several inches below the waterline.  The guy who first came to help had gone back to his boat, figured out exactly when low tide was, and then came back to inform us that by 15:00 we ought to be able to move.  Turned out he was off by about ten minutes.

Once the tide was coming back in, about 14:00, I had to try something.  So, I got in the dinghy, which we had towed since it was such a simple, short trip, and tried pushing the bow around again.  I was able to move it a little, but not enough.  At least it moved a little.  About fifteen minutes later, I tried again.  We got a little more pivot, but still not enough.  About 14:30, another guy in his dinghy, with a rum drink (gotta love that) came to see if he could help.  For the next half hour, we pushed sideways toward the deep water, while Barb drove the boat.  I kept watching the waterline rise and hoping it was enough.  Finally, she started to move.  Once back in the slightly deeper water, Barb drove as I caught up with the dinghy, tied it, and jumped aboard.  We then slowly motored on into the anchorage and dropped the hook amongst about ten other boats.

We had originally planned to take a mooring, but Tom, the first guy to help us, warned us about the integrity of some of the moorings, so we elected to anchor instead.  The first order of business after all this was to have an adult beverage.  We were dangerously low on supplies though.  So after one margarita each, which finished those ingredients, we set off on a mission.  The main town is a fairly long dinghy ride from here, but the Green Turtle Club has a store, so we headed there.  We tied up the dinghy and went inside, only to find no evidence of beer or liquor for sale.  The girl running the store was outside attending to a gas customer, so we headed back outside.  I said we were looking for beer or liquor and since they didn't have any, where could we find some.  She indicated that they did sell such goods, so we followed her back inside.  She went to the back of the store and unlocked a door and let us into the room with the booze.  It wasn't a big supply, but they had rum, so I was set.  We paid for it, and got the lowdown on their restaurant and headed back to the boat.

We opted to just have a simple dinner onboard tonight, since all the days stress has worn me out.  We plan to stay here several days, so we can explore the restaurant later.

GPS N 26-46.757 W 77-20.174  Miles made good this leg 6.  Total miles covered 3658.