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We’re heading out of Green Turtle Cay this morning. This is the first time the wind has practically been dead calm since we arrived and for the first time I was able to hear the all the roosters. They actually started making noise before dawn. It was a noise I didn’t recognize at first because there were so many all howling at the same time from all over the Cay. They at first sounded sinister and witchlike, like a pack of coyotes until I realized what they were.
GULLY ROOSTERS Speaking of Roosters, last night the local singing groups called “Gully Roosters” were playing across the anchorage at Green Turtle Cay Marina. They played last week and I blotted them out with the TV and last night was more than I could take. They gave me such a headache as they played well into midnight and after. They started at 9:00 and lasted three hours plus and that was way too much of them. They are so loud that you can’t think of anything else and the incessant drumming and similar beat over and over was enough to drive you crazy. It wasn’t a pleasurable experience. I’m sure I’m in the minority with that opinion because they are a very popular local band but an hour and a half might be good. Well, we hate to leave this place. We spent the other day riding in the dinghy to the nearby deserted Cays in search of shells. We were very successful but mostly impressed with the pure beauty of the deserted beaches and Cays that you can have entirely to yourselves for the day. It was paradise and then when you are back to the marina it’s a short ride to get everything you need, a village, groceries, restaurants, a good community of friendly people. I can’t imagine that anything could be better than this place but guess we will find out. The weather report is good according to Larry. We have a real respect for the weather around here having experienced two pretty strong Fronts since we’ve arrived in the Bahamas and both luckily tied up at the docks. Someday though, I’m sure we’ll be anchored out and hoping we have a good hook to weather through what can be at times very strong winds. I haven’t checked the weather report but Larry has. I can see in the early morning sky a thick bank of dark clouds off where the sun is supposed to come up. It looks dark and ominous this morning not like a day that you think you want to go out in. We’re going out into the Atlantic this morning, through Whale’s Cut and come back in to Baker’s Bay. That’s the only way we can get further South along the Abacos because of the deep draft we have. If we like the looks of Baker’s Bay we may anchor there and stay over night. If not we’ll head to Great Iguana Cay and tie up at a marina. The weather is supposed to get bad again tomorrow so we probably want to be at a dock to weather that one out too.
RUBBING THE BOTTOM As we left, our new friend Gail, and another boater helped us with the lines and we waved goodbye promising to stay “connected” and “be safe” which is becoming the standard good bye in these waters. We headed out, the sun just behind a thick heavy mass of dark clouds. The waters are grey black and I couldn’t see a thing below to tell how deep or whether we had sand or reef bottom. As we headed towards the channel, Larry took over while I went back to stow the lines and fenders. Soon we came to a sudden soft stop on a sand bar off to the starboard side of the channel. I ran up to the pilot house and Larry immediately backed her up and off and turned more to the portside of the channel and we slowly headed out. We’re both wondering to ourselves how this day is going to be. It’s an hour after high tide but we should’ve been fine. You just can’t take anything for granted around here. We would have rather left in sunny skies so we could read the waters better but the tides are dictating our travels today.
WHALE’S CUT We proceed carefully and slowly and finally get out the channel. Whew, no more rubbing the bottom. Several boats are anchored outside New Plymouth. Once outside the channel, we make our recommended turn (from the cruising guide) to get into deeper waters. It takes us into the opposite direction of our destination for a few minutes. Once we reach the deeper waters, we make another turn and head in the direction to take us to Whale Cut. We pass the little village of New Plymouth on our portside. It is a sight for eyes, a quaint little place no matter how you look at it. I’m nervous about heading out through the cut to the Atlantic because the skies are dark and filled with ominous looking clouds and we can’t see the colors of the water. I purposely didn’t read about going out Whale Cut in the cruising guide because my imagination gets the best of me but now wish that I had. I find myself constantly asking if it’s OK to go in these conditions as we can’t see the waters and are the depths OK for the tide since we aren’t leaving at exactly high tide. Are we going to hit the cut at the right time? What is the weather report out there on the Atlantic side? What are the swells and waves like? It’s 7:00 now and we tune in to the Boater’s Net on the radio. It’s the first time we’ve been able to hear them. We still can’t pick it all up but it’s better than the reception we got at Green Turtle Cay. Boaters in different locations call in daily to report conditions in their area to the Boater’s Net. We’re early on the net so we just hear the broadcaster collecting conditions from different boaters to do the official report at 8:00. Sometimes we can’t hear the other person calling in but I can hear the Boater’s Net Spokeswoman, Patti, saying “Wow, that’s different than what NOAA reported” or “Well, be safe, it’s going to be rough”. Larry says don’t worry it could be conditions a 100 miles from here because we couldn’t hear what the location was. Larry is calm and confident. Soon on the horizon we see the silhouettes of a line of sports fishing boats coming from Baker’s Cut heading out into the Atlantic. It made me feel good to see other boaters instead of just us being the only ones out here. They were all traveling in a line following each other across the horizon going through the cut in single file like a bunch of baby ducks. The swells are building as we head out to the Atlantic now but the horizon is filled with other boaters maybe not with a deep a draft as ours but they are there nevertheless and that is comforting to me. It’s choppy and we plow through some pretty big short swells as we come out through the cut. The waves are crashing on the Whale’s Cay to our starboard side but the seas are nothing this boat can’t handle with ease. Somehow once through the cut in the deep waters I felt much more relaxed. The chop was 4-6 feet but coming on our portside forward quarter and the separation time was enough to so it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a short trip outside and soon we had plot our way back in again and back in towards Baker’s Bay, yes, back to those shallow waters again. They dredged a channel here a few years back hopefully to encourage small cruise ships to come in to Baker’s Bay. The idea though grand didn’t succeed as the stormy seas in this area proved not to be a reliable place for ships like that. So, supposedly there still are remnants of some of the channel markers but the guide said not to rely on them totally. We saw the markers which were nothing more than metal posts sticking up out of the water. The sun was in our face and all the posts looked the same color as we head into them. The channel wasn’t straight so it was hard to tell what was what but Larry kept his cool and slowly plodded along. As we passed the poles I could tell Larry made the right choices as the green was on our left and red on our right though Larry couldn’t see the colors until we passed them because of the sunlight. The chart plotter was pretty accurate going through there. Once through the old dredged channel we hit shallow waters again. The sky was getting a bit nasty looking and the winds were blowing a good clip so the anchorage at Baker’s Bay did not look inviting to me. It looked like a planned resort that was empty. There is big talk in the Abacos about the big planned development going in there and how it will ruin the reefs, etc. Very controversial but we don’t know much about it. We decided to head on to Great Guana Cay.
GREAT GUANA CAY HARBOR It’s not much further to Guana Cay Harbor. The marina is set up much like Spanish Cay with a piled rock breakwater. All the docks in the Abacos are wooden fixed docks very high off the water with ladders to get on and off depending on the tide. We pull in and the slip in our opinion is a bit small for our boat. We have some trouble getting the lines sorted out and not much protection for the bow which was sticking out of the slip quite aways. We finally got settled and and the only other boat in the marina was another Nordhavn 40 called “Dive Adx”. She was there on her boat lone with her golden retriever “Thor” for a week while her husband went home for a week on business. We asked “Michelle” what was around, like restaurants and shops and she said “not much”. The famous “Nippers” was here she said and one little grocery store and that’s about it.
NIPPERS We got the bikes down immediately and decided to explore the Cay. The crescent shaped harbor is very small and picturesque. It’s quiet with a sandy harbor shore lined with palm trees and little old pastel shaded cottages. A little concrete road only big enough to accommodate a golf cart, edges the harbor. There is one grocery store the size of a small convenience store in the states and not much else in the way of stores or restaurants except for the famous “Nippers”. We saw the small hand made rustic sign pointing to Nippers leading down a narrow palm shaded sandy lane that eventually lead up a hill to the beach. There it was, the multi seat panga bar, with two swimming pools and multi leveled decks overlooking the longest most fantastic aquamarine beach I ever saw. There were beautiful white breakers crashing over the coral reefs. The beach was the whitest ever and the sand was the consistency of powder. It was breath taking. We were the first ones there for lunch and it was “no problem” to bring Ziggy in as they had two old Jack Russells themselves who act as bouncers or at least mascots. The couple that owned the place were so friendly and made us feel right at home immediately. We ordered up two lunches and sat down on the multi colored furniture as the place gradually filled up. We were content to just gaze out at the ocean in a non alcoholic stupor. “Nippers” is famous throughout the Abacos for their Sunday “pig roast”. We weren’t there on Sunday but a Thursday. Larry had heard so much about it from everyone we’ve met that he wanted to stay until Sunday for the pig roast. After lunch we road the bikes all over the island and concluded that other than having Nippers and that fantastic beach there wasn’t a whole lot to do here compared to Green Turtle Cay. It didn’t have the great infrastructure of the town of New Plymouth that had so much charm. Not to put it down as the laid back atmosphere would be something desirable but we wanted a little more to weather out the upcoming storm. We headed back to the boat and stayed in for the evening, watched the ferry boats coming and going from Marsh Harbor ferrying people back and forth, who’s destination was, I’m sure, Nippers. Little skiffs were coming in too, racing past the breakwater into the public dock. I told Larry this place must be a mad house during the weekend with boats going in and out and especially Sunday for the pig roast.
We watched the sunset and got the weather update. It looked like the Front coming in was going to be a bad one. We looked out at the rock breakwater that was almost submerged at high tide and decided this was not where we wanted to be holed up during the storm. So we decided first thing in the morning we were going to Marsh Harbor. >
LEAVING GUANA CAY FRIDAY THE 13TH We woke early. We had a great sleep in this quiet place. We were going to head on over to Marsh Harbor first thing as the Front was supposedly coming in this evening and was expected to blow for a couple of days. We thought we’d rather be in a town with things to do during the storm than hanging out here. It was only a short trip. Larry made a comment that it was Friday the 13th but not being superstitious, it didn’t mean much to me. We started engines and headed out. We would be arriving at Marsh Harbor not at high tide but Larry checked before, with the marina, and they said it would be “no problem” as we would have “10 feet consistent all the way in” even though it wasn’t high tide. So we said our “goodbyes” headed out.
FRIDAY THE 13TH I’ve never been superstitious before today but now my whole outlook has changed about the omens of Friday the 13th. As we neared the entrance to Marsh Harbor, we followed the directions in the cruising guide, and hug the eastern side to avoid the shoals and the dredged commercial channel. Once inside, we hailed the harbor master and he said to heads towards the fuel dock. There were anchored boats in the harbor and we headed through what seemed to be an obvious channel through the moored boats. As we headed through the anchorage towards the fuel dock, the water was getting extremely shallow or “skinny” as many boaters say. We had less than a foot under us and it was making us very nervous. Where was that “consistent 10 feet of depth”? I was standing on the port side of the Portuguese walk and suddenly saw a rode line from a sailboat stretching out in front of us, just below the water line. I can see we aren't not going to clear it! I yelled to Larry that we were going to hook it with the bulbous bow and before you could wink or think, we caught it like a plane landing on a destroyer, hooking to the line. The line didn’t stop us but started to pull the sailboat towards us. I yelled to Larry that we hooked it and to “stop and back up” as fast as he could. Though he maneuvered quickly, he couldn’t get her stopped and reversed fast enough to help, as the sailboat was already projected into motion. Soon it was obvious that the little sailboat was being propelled towards us like a torpedo and there was no reversing this situation. I tried to quickly untie a fender to help fend them off thinking maybe it would break the obvious oncoming impact of their bow but there just was not enough time. Suddenly, that image of the woman on the Nordhavn in Worth Lake, Florida, that was killed two years ago, in a similar experience (trying to fend off another boat), came to mind. With that image in mind, I just stepped back and watched the impact, doing nothing, as the bow of the sailboat just rammed right into us. It was an awful feeling just watching that. But, luckily Larry got the boat stopped in time to prevent pulling their boat under us. The other lucky thing was that the puncture to our boat was done to the boarding door so it will be easy to remove and have repaired. I didn’t see any damage to their bow sprit so everything looked better than we felt. I got the name of their boat and said we were going to dock our boat and will get back to them. It was hard to continue through the anchorage like normal after the shock of that. It’s always nerve wracking docking the boat in an unknown dock anyway, and to have had that happen to wrack you nerves and then the additional strain of now having only 3” below us with a tide lowering by the minute was really pushing us to the limit. It was also embarrassing as every boat in the anchorage I’m sure was watching as you know how we all do. The dock master hailed us back on the radio and asked us to wait while he got another sailboat tied up. We nervously waited wondering if the last few inches below us would disappear in a poof as we tried to patiently wait. Finally, he said to pull up almost to the fuel dock and then turn and follow the dock slips, staying close to the dock until we reached the slip he was standing by (by now we see him and he’s waving to us). He said, “once you reach the slip make a quick close turn into the slip”. I’m thinking “If there was some unknown ledge out there if we make the wrong move?”. We obediently obeyed and got tied up quickly as he had to go to help another boat that came in. Once tied up and power plugged in we decided we first needed to get the dinghy down and head out to the sailboat to assess any damage, make sure they were alright and to apologize for the accident. We carefully got the dinghy down (even though our nerves were shattered) in the narrow quarters between the pilings and the boat. Just as I was lowering the dinghy Larry realized that I forgot to take our upper railing down so the dinghy could clear as I swung it around to then lower it to the water. He yelled at me to stop while he ran up and removed it. Mmmm, another bad omen for the day and proof of our jitters. I bent the rail slightly but no significant damage. We got the dinghy down in the water and Larry motored out to the people. I watched through the binoculars and could see him talking with them and motoring around to check their bow. After about 15 minutes, he slowly headed back. We put the dinghy back up immediately as it was a difficult place to get it up and down and we just wanted it put away before the Front came. Also we just wanted it put away so it would be one less thing to deal with after this unlucky day. We both looked at each other and decided to head on up to the bar and knock down one or two to calm our nerves and get a sandwich. As we were sitting there in the bar overlooking the harbor and reviewing the events Larry told me of the conversation he had with the sail boater. He said the guy said he had 50 feet of chain out and another 50 feet of rode (that was not weighted, so being nylon it floated just under the surface of the water rather dropping down to a decent depth). The more we discussed it and thought about it, the more ridiculous we thought it was to have so much line out for these shallow waters and in such tight quarters. So his line was strung out across the “informal channel” and with the shallow depths already as low as 7 feet, there was no way we could have missed that line no matter what we did. If we didn’t have the bulbulous bow we probably would have rubbed over and hopefully the props would have been protected with our skag. The more we went over it, the more we were convinced that he should not have a line strung out that far, without a weight, in this crowded harbor. It was dangerous. But like in the States, I guess, if you hit the car you are following, no matter if you think the person stopped erroneously or not, or whether they created a situation that was impossible to stop sufficiently far enough behind to avoid a collision, YOU ARE GUILTY, YOU ARE AT FAULT. We felt this was probably a similar scenario, so we thought the right thing to do was offer our apologies and offer to pay for any damage that he might have incurred and that’s what we did. Always a lesson to learn, not sure what this one was exactly, but we feel like we unfortunately learned one again. Now when entering a harbor we will very aware of the anchor lines, checking all to make sure they are pointing down not straight out across the path that we are going. Larry patched the hole left on the boarding door with some grey duck tape and that seems to have taken care of the damage until we get back to the States where we can have the gel coat and hole repaired.
THE FRONT FROM HELL We knew a Front was coming but
now suddenly they were predicting gale force winds. It was hard to believe
since all was calm out, actually dead calm, and there was an ominous full moon
in the sky. It was very clear and innocent looking out, BUT around 4:20 AM, I
awoke to the sound of rain and we got up and scrambled around covered anything
that had been left exposed and brought things in. From that moment the winds
gradually began to build and when we got up later, at around 7:00 AM, they were
blowing pretty well in the 30-35 knot range. Everyone was scrambling on the
docks, adjusting lines and securing anything that might come loose. It was high
tide and I don’t know how Larry managed to get off the boat onto the dock but
soon he was helping the Bahamian dock master tighten lines on a big sailboat
next to us that was just starting to bang its stern into the dock. The owners
are gone to the States and have left the boat here for safe keeping. Larry
became concerned about our bow hitting the dock as the winds were increasing and
blowing us forward from behind and we were getting very close to the dock. We
were bow in to the slip and the wind was blowing directly on our stern. We had
only one aft spring line holding us so he added another for safety and threw
another spring line on a post on our portside and that was all we had at the
moment to keep us from going forward. By now several of the men on other boats
were on the docks going around helping each other frantically. They all helped
to pull our bow over so Larry could tie it at an angle in the slip so if we did
go forward we would miss the post directly in front of the bow sprit.
The boats out in the harbor are having a hell of a time rolling in the 3-4 foot seas and the winds now are gusting into the 40’s. I see a Bahamian guy, that works for the Moorings Charter Boats, in a small skiff, pulling by hand two other dinghies behind him as he tries desperately to ride into the waves and wind to take these darn dinghies over to the other side of the docks. I don’t know what would be so important about moving those dinghies that he would think it was worth risking danger like that. At one point I screamed as I watched his dinghy go straight up vertical and came within an inch from flipping over on him. He just continued on, riding up and down the giant waves pulling those dinghies. After he got around to safety, my attention was again drawn back to the men on the dock. I couldn’t even get off the boat as it was rocking so much and the tide had us so high there was no safe way to jump off. I have no idea how Larry managed. One thing about boaters, they all chip in to help each other out in a crunch and today we experienced many demonstrations of this trait. They worked together in the winds and rain to get all the boats that were in danger, secure. It didn’t matter whose boat it was. There is a large Moorings Charter Company here and we are wondering what the new chatterers are thinking as they just got on their boats for the first time and the winds and waves are insane. I’m sure they are wondering what in the heck they are getting into.
TRAWLER IN TROUBLE As the afternoon progressed the weather didn’t let up or break but just increased in intensity. Winds are consistently blowing now in the 50 knot range, which is amazing to me! I clocked at the highest 58.7! A large trawler out in the anchorage is having problems. I can hear a woman in a sailboat calling on the radio. She’s trying to hail the trawler but gets no answer. She then hails anyone nearby saying this boat is in trouble and they need help. Then you could hear the boaters all get on the radio. They tried repeatedly to hail this guy but no answer and then it was decided that people would try to get on their dinghies and go out to help. We watched in terror as this desperate couple was trying to keep this large boat from whacking all the surrounding boats. He finally was forced to start his engine and it looked like he was driving the thing madly in all sorts of directions but he was just doing his best to miss the boats as he wallowed back and forth in the gusts of strong winds. The woman kept coming out on the back of the boat I think to give reports to him about the location of the surrounding boats as he was in the pilot house and couldn’t see behind him. We would see him every so often coming out of the pilot house and run up to the bow to try to pull the anchor up as if it was tangled or stuck. Finally several sail boaters managed to get into their dinghies in these terrible winds and seas and motor out to help them. The seas are ferocious by now and it’s becoming dangerous for those trying to help to even board his boat. We didn’t know exactly what the problem they were having was but soon several boaters were on his boat and two were on the bow trying to pull the anchor or snubber up. They struggled for about an hour in 50 knot winds and 4 foot seas and still throughout this madness they managed not to hit one other nearby boat and it was crowded. It was as nasty as I’ve ever seen it out there. We found out later that his anchor dragged and he was a flat bottom so he was being blown all over the place in the wind. His wife had a medical problem and had no strength to help him, so the poor guy was running the boat from the pilot house and then running outside to try to get the anchor up and then would have to run back in to keep the boat from hitting another boat as he drifted back or swung in the winds. It went on and on like this (like a nightmare) for a time that seemed endless. The poor guy must have been exhausted and his wife must have been stressed to the max. We all know, as boaters, that at anytime, that could be any one of us, and it was great to see the out pouring of help from everyone and how brave they were.
CHAOS ON THE DOCKS TOO While this was going on, a large beautiful boat down from us, was starting to bang against the dock. The captain began to make maneuvers to add more lines to protect the boat. Many on the docks came to help. Larry’s long boat hook was worth its weight in gold today because it helped out many boater’s that day to snag lines dropped in the water and retrieve those looped on posts that needed to be moved. The captain had to turn his engines on to get the boat in a position to add more lines. Larry had to turn ours on too to get enough slack on the lines to tighten them up as the tide went out. The force of the wind was just too strong to fight. All day the winds are
consistently blowing on our stern and trying to push us into the dock. We don’t
have much dock to tie to as it was short and no poles behind to tie to so it was
nerve wracking. The lines seemed to be holding well though. Several people on
the dock helped Larry extend two extra lines across an empty slip next to us to
the other dock to keep us from moving forward and into the side dock. Later in the day, (winds though dying down were still blowing in the high 40s) we couldn’t believe our eyes, as a Moorings Charter sailboat came into the harbor! My God, were they out in this mess? They managed to get up alongside the fuel dock. We went down to see if we could help but the Bahamian dock master and his helper saw them coming and managed to get two of their lines and held them to the dock the best they could. We asked where they came from and they said Baker’s Bay anchorage on Old Guana. They looked ragged and in a stooper. They really didn’t want to talk and I don’t blame them. They weren’t cheering either that they were safely at dock now but I’m sure they were relieved. I think they were just grateful that the nightmare was over with and they made it, tired, but safe a sound.
OLD MAN & HIS DOGS, TRAPPED IN A WASHING MACHINE OF A BOAT Across the dock was a small 30 foot ramshackle of a boat (cabin cruiser not a sailboat). An old man, who must be in his eighties and can barely walk, has been in the boat with two non-stop barking dogs. The boat is rolling and rocking like it was inside a washing machine, so much so, that we can’t imagine what it is like for him in there. He managed to get out this morning, with the help of the Bahamian dock master, before the winds got too strong. They weren’t able to get the dogs off so the dogs have been inside that boat all day rocking and rolling. The old man returned a few hours later, probably worried about his dogs. I could see him from the pilot house as he returned. He was trying to get back on the boat, but there was no way, as it was rocking all over the place. We all got out of our boats and went to help him. Someone had to get on the rocking boat and loosen a line so we could pull the boat close to the dock and hold it there while others held his arms to help him back in. As he stepped one foot on the cockpit deck he turned and looked up at me in what seemed like a state of shock. We wondered at him being on that boat at his age and his condition (as he can barely walk down the dock). The dogs were of good size and haven’t been off that boat since we’ve been here. I can’t even stand to think about it. I’m sure the man is not strong enough to lift them on to the dock. It’s a sad situation. We’re going to see if we can help him get the dogs off at some point when the weather dies down. Maybe he never takes them off, I don’t know.
FEELING LIKE PINS IN A BOWLING ALLEY The winds have been just incredible blowing into the 50s consistently and making for an incredible building sea in the protection of the harbor of all places. I kept feeling that if any of those anchored boats drag or lose position, they will be heading for us like a bowling ball. We’ll be like pins in a bowling alley. I’ll be glad when the direction of the winds change, as of now, they have only been blowing in one direction and sorry to say it’s been blowing right up our ass. It been blowing up our stern all day and 2-4 foot waves are banging and banging into the stern, splashing water up over the rail onto the salon window and door as if we were out to sea. It was amazing. We’d never seen anything like it. We would try to take a picture, but could not get anything that faced into the wind. Our windows were so crusted with salt that you couldn’t see out. We would take a picture and then the picture looked like it was so calm out compared to what it was. I tried to go up on the fly bridge to get a picture of the boats in the harbor in the waves but the winds were too strong. It was unbelievable. There was no way to get a picture. Mother Nature just kept blowing her heart out all day and it reminded me of when we were in rough seas in the Caribbean two years ago. Sometimes I would think “Is she ever going to stop or just let up for a break?” Same thing here, it just kept going on and on. We wondered what it must have been like when the boat was at dock in Florida with 120 knot winds during hurricane Wilma. We can’t even imagine it as Captain Jim Kelly stayed on the boat during the hurricane to do what he could to protect it. We asked him what it was like and all he said was, “It was a wild ride!” We see now what a good job he did of protecting our boat during that storm and we appreciate what he must have gone through.
MORE LESSONS LEARNED Guess we learned a few lessons here in Marsh Harbor:
1. Take these weather reports in the Bahamas seriously as they can be incredibly severe. 2. Analyze the expected direction of the storm winds and how they will affect you at the dock. We’ve learned that our boat does much better with the bow facing the wind and waves. 3. Though there were no problems, we always need to consider the winds and the boats at anchor and ask the question whether they will be a threat of dragging into us. Sometimes you can’t have all the conditions perfect, you just have to deal with what is dealt. We had some huge pillars out behind us but with the right combination a boat could drag into our boat and with 50 knot winds, that could be a force to be reckoned with. We all were worried at the docks and watched the anchored boats all day. Even though at dock and in a seemingly protected harbor, the winds and seas still can be a threat. 4. Never totally trust the marina or anyone to telling you there’s plenty of depth in these areas. 5. Always try to come in and leave at high tide no matter what anyone may tell you. 6. Always beware of going through an area of anchored sailboats, in these shallow waters, as you may snag (with our bulbulous bow) another sail boater with an non weighted nylon rode line that has way too much line out in a narrow area. 7. Never underestimate Mother Nature. Never.
Lots of lessons learned for us today.
COURAGEOUS GROUP I was so impressed with all the boaters and how they all came to the rescue of anyone having trouble. Sometimes in this world of hustle and bustle, people seem so caught up in their own lives, that it’s rare to see people helping strangers out, risking their own safety and discomfort in the most uncomfortable of situations. There is no Coast Guard or Harbor Patrol here to come to your rescue like in the States. You are on your own and you all need to work together to help each other out. It’s nice to know, when you are far from home that you can count on a group of people like this. It gives you back faith in humanity, at least here. Again, though, as we go through these experiences, we appreciate the solidness of this boat. We were extremely comfortable during the storm, almost feeling guilty, as we watched many suffering out in their open cockpits worrying about whether they would drag or another would drag into them as they rode dangerously up and down in the winds and waves. I have a strong respect for the boaters in this area as I watched them sit this out. They set those anchors well and not a complaint from any of them. They are a hardy bunch. I must say we are in the minority here being a power boat and probably not looked on too well as there is that old love hate relationship between sail boaters and power boaters though I hope we don’t fall into that scenario. We travel fairly slow and enjoy the scenery and serenity much as the sailboats do.
DOGS A SHORE IN THE STORM The other amazing thing was to see some of the boaters bearing the storm and rough seas to get their dogs ashore. I saw one guy standing in his dinghy with his golden lab riding up and down the waves in 50 knot winds and 3-4 foot waves, in the harbor, heading to shore and then 30 minutes later returning to the boat, just to relieve his dog. He wasn’t the only one I saw either. Guess there’s nothing masters won’t do for their dogs.
RENTED A CAR AND DROVE SOUTH OF MARSH HARBOR It was still windy and blowing the next day but had died down quite a bit and so we decided to rent a car and see some of the island. We headed south and were surprised to find the interior landscape pretty plain and uninteresting. It was flat with scrubby pine trees and the road was boringly straight as an arrow for miles and then suddenly, for no reason that we could imagine, it would make a sharp right or left turn out of no where. There were no buildings or signs for miles, just this plain landscape. We drove for about 20 miles and finally began to see a few driveways here and there with “Private or No Trespassing” signs.
CHEROKEE SOUND We finally reached a little settlement called Cherokee sound. It was a remote isolated old fishing settlement of clapboard cottages. It has remained exactly the same for centuries with only about 150 residents who have family ties here going all the way back to 1783. They have for generations scratched out a lifestyle here mostly by craw fishing, night shark hunting, tiniki crabbing and wild boar in the nearby pine forests. There are no stores or cafes, just a settlement, plain and stark, with a couple narrow concrete pathways between houses. They overlook the end of the peninsula into Cherokee Sound and the Atlantic beyond. It’s a unique area compared to the rest of the landscape we’ve seen as they are surrounded by salt marshes. It’s a place set in time but soon rumored to change by a massive development planned with golf course and all the usual fixings. What a shame.
LITTLE HARBOR OR MORE ACCURATELY, “GILLIGAN’S LANDING” We back tracked after that and headed out a dirt or rather white sandy pot filled road with only a piece of rustic driftwood as a sign with the words “Pete’s Pub” and an arrow hand painted across it. We bumped along for a few miles and finally came to an even smaller settlement known at “Little Harbor” made famous by Pete Johnston and his foundry and gallery of bronze sculptures. It’s also famous in more recent times for “Pete’s Pub” which looks like something out of Gilligan’s Island.
We parked the car and walked
the small crescent shaped white sand beach of the little harbor lined with palm
trees and little rustic bungalows. The harbor was small as it’s name but
filled with cruisers, many tied with triple anchor lines as they too had
weathered the storm yesterday with the same tribulations as the rest of us. We
checked Pete Johnston’s Gallery out and stopped by Pete’s Pub for some grouper
burgers and joined an Irish cruising couple. He was sitting in a plastic patio
chair in the sand with a toilet seat around his neck that he salvaged from a
recent walk on the beach. It looked like a life ring around his neck and I’m
sure the Goombay Smash that he just inhaled probably gave him a more than
aesthetic opinion of how he thought it looked. This place is right out of
Gilligan’s Island and maybe even more extreme. The bar is put together with
every possible piece of junk that must have been scavenged off the nearby beach
thought the guide book says some of the timbers were salvaged from the nearby
shipped wrecked Langosta.
We headed back to Marsh Harbor after that, me wishing we had left earlier and planned the day better to head farther south to Sandy Point for some good shell hunting. We had no interest really in driving north to sea Treasure Cay Resort so turned the car in after doing some boat errands that Larry needed to do.
MARSH HARBOR AND THE CONCH
INN MARINA We enjoyed our stay in Marsh Harbor and the Conch Inn Marina. Tony the dock master was a great guy, always around and helping people and kept a close eye out for the old man with the two dogs. As the weather settled we were relieved that find out that Tony would always seem to be around when the old man got in and out of the boat and helped him and to my additional relief would help to at least get the larger dog out who would take an immediate lengthy pee on the dock the minute his paws reached the deck. Tony never complained and always helped with a smile not expecting anything in return. It was also an interesting place to watch the Moorings charters come and go. We had a great view of the harbor and all the goings on and the marina bar was on the second story deck and had a great view of everything and most importantly, Ziggy was welcome. Though Marsh Harbor is not pretty or scenic by any means it’s a good place to stock up and find things you need. They have one big grocery store, Solomon’s, where all the boater’s seem to go, but I noticed there are several other places to shop too but we were satisfied with what they had so had no need to search further. Bristol’s was where we got wine which was fine and close but at times a little frustrating with the service. We soon found where the fresh Bahamian bread was baked and the local fish market and the packing company where you could buy frozen lobster tails. Everything you need is there, you just have to ask around, be friendly and you’ll find it. We loved the Jib Room for ribs. It’s a great place to get together for boaters and even though you don’t know a soul before you get in there, you are one big family before you leave and the food is great.
SAGA OF THE POOP EATER Larry has a favorite brand of enzyme that he has always used for the holding tank. We’ve only been able to find it in one store and that’s located in San Diego, California. In the rush of things before we left to join the boat in Florida, we forgot to order some and once in Fort Lauderdale, Larry called them on the phone and tried to have them ship some to us before we left for the Bahamas. The store is not used to shipping things but agreed in this circumstance to ship it to us at the marina. Larry tried to get them to ship it Fed Ex next day or UPS next day, but the woman insisted that it would get there in time by 2 day regular mail. Well, with the Christmas rush we both looked at each other and said it will be a miracle if it arrives in time. Sure enough the package never arrived so the afternoon before we left Larry called the woman back telling her it never arrived and now we were leaving the States so she would have to track the package back and credit us back the money. Once in the Bahamas, we were wondering how difficult it would be to get them to ship the enzymes to the Bahamas. After the last experience we didn’t have much confidence. We finally had the bright idea of asking our good friends Bernie and Bev, in nearby La Jolla, if they would go and get some and ship it for us to Marsh Harbor Fed Ex. So, while we were in Green Turtle Cay we emailed them and explained the situation and they replied back that they would be glad to do it for us. Next day, we got an email from them with the words “poop eater” in the email “subject line” (we guessed by then they knew what sort of errand we had sent them on). Bernie said he had been to the store in San Diego and purchased the minimum two cans of “poop eater stuff”, as he called it, for $40. We really didn’t tell him what the stuff was when we requested this favor but I guess he’s a thorough kind of guy and he did some “research” and found out this was not the glamorous errand he thought it was. He said he boxed it and took it to UPS to have it shipped but that he couldn’t mail it because UPS required a zip code. So another day goes by and Larry tries to find a zip code for the “package receiving place” in Marsh Harbor but after much research and talking to several people he found out there is no zip code in the Bahamas. So, Larry emails Bernie back and said “there is none”. Next day we get another email back, same subject “poop eater”. This time Bernie says, UPS apologizes, apparently they thought the Bahamas was part of the United States so thought it had a zip code. Bernie’s remark is, “an example our educational system is producing”. Now, Bernie’s latest email says:
By now the costs are adding up. The product (poop eaters) cost about $40 and now shipping is $103.50, totaling to about $150 for something that we will be throwing down the drain, so to speak. We need to consider the importance of this product now. We send back an email and say “go for it.” So, a few days go by and we are in Guana Cay, I think, and we get a phone call. It’s from the customs agent in Freeport. They want to know if the package has boat parts in it because if it does they need a copy of our cruising permit and there will be significant duty on it. I say “no, it’s just enzymes for our holding tank” with out further description, hoping I wouldn’t have to go into it and that seemed to satisfy them. I was relieved because I thought it might seem strange to be ordering and shipping something that eats poop. I asked how would the package now get to Marsh Harbor and she said it would go out on the plane to Marsh Harbor tomorrow. Days later, we finally get to Marsh Harbor. We get the bikes down, ride all over town looking for the UPS office. We find it, go in, and they tell us to go to the customs brokers office down the road. We find that place and they tell Larry “the package” was still in Freeport. This has been a few days now! The reason is, she says is the customs agent in Freeport doesn’t believe the declared valued dollar figure of the product and is insisting that we call the store where we purchased it and have the store fax a receipt showing clearly the cost of the product. Larry said “that’s impossible and explained why we couldn’t” (or really wouldn’t go to the trouble of doing). The customs agent said she would relay that information to the customs agent in Freeport and for us to come back the next day. So after several bicycle rides back and forth because planes are never on schedule here it seems and further conversations with them, Larry finally says in exasperation; “If the dam thing isn’t on the plane by tomorrow you can have the dam stuff. If you don’t care about protecting your reefs any more than that, why should I care.” Sure enough, the product was put on the plane the next day and we were feeling pretty good by now that we’d get the “poop stuff”. We rode the bikes down the customs broker again to FINALLY pick up the little enzymes. Larry was feeling pretty good about now until he got to the window to get the package and the agent said that will be $85! Larry said “what the hell is that charge for?” and she said it was their fee because when they first tried to call us we weren’t available. Go figure! So, we now have some enzymes that normally would cost us $20, but had to buy a minimum of two packages, (so we have enough to last us a life time), so that’s $40. Then add the shipping “2 day” but took two weeks for another $103, and $85 for the customs agent. That brings the cost of these microscopic enzymes to about $250 all for something we are just going to pour down the drain, so to speak, and this is not even considering the time and effort for phone calls, emails, bicycle rides, etc. That afternoon, I read in the local newspaper that they were having a big sale or auction of all the stuff that doesn’t get picked up in customs. “Lots of good buys!” it says. No wonder they have a lot of stuff there to auction off. Who in their right mind would have the patience to go through all that. Now we know why we hear on the Boater’s Net, requests and offers by people going to and from the states by plane to carry mail and packages back and forth.
POOP EATER IN TANK AND READY TO GO Well, we,ve relaxed, provisioned, weathered a storm and now it was time to see more of the Abacos. This time we were heading to Man-O-War Cay and then on to Hope Town which we have heard on more than several occasions from different sources that it is a great place. Guess we’ll find out. Hope we have better luck getting out of the harbor than we had coming in.
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We
made ourselves at home and cruisers began to pile in for the only place within
miles that you could get a drink and food. It was unique that’s for sure.
While waiting for lunch, Zig and I walked up the wooden path up and over the
sand dune to the rugged beach facing the Atlantic. The shore was a mixture
of white sand beach laden with broken pieces of white coral that have washed in
and a stretch of rough almost volcanic rock. It was wild and wind
swept and you felt like you were at the end of the earth facing out to the white
capped Atlantic.
