THE WEST END, GRAND BAHAMAS ISLAND
I was exhausted from our journey yesterday and literally went to bed feeling dead dog tired at 7:00 PM last night. I didn’t awake until the sun began to come up and I could hear the coffee pot percolating in the galley. I felt like my legs and arms weighed a ton but somehow swung them up and around Ziggy and jumped out of the bunk. I plopped my two feet in my heal-worn slippers and shuffled my way to the head and then up the galley stairs to my seat at the settee. Larry and I don’t say a word. Larry knows I don’t make much sense until I get two cups of coffee down me. I was semi-awake enough to notice the winds were blowing a good howl outside and our lines were stretched to the max, keeping us a good foot and a half off the rough splinter ridden wooden piers. We rubbed in the other direction last night as evidenced by the many splinters lodged in our expensive sweater covered fenders. The wind had shifted clockwise as the new front came in with a fury. Wow, we all timed the crossing within a matter of hours before the next big Front arrived.
ANOTHER “SHITTY” DAY
I vaguely remember that Larry did say last night that the weather was going to be “shitty” today and I guess he was right. I was worried about the lines as I tied them to the posts last night and wasn’t confident of my ability to withstand these 25 plus knot winds. We walked around the boat surmising the situation and decided a few doubling up of lines would be in good order.
I guess what got me going about the lines was noticing the French, two slips away, in a big gaudy looking yacht, were moving all their fenders. The older woman that looked like the mother-in-chief was waving her arms wildly and shouting out orders to whoever would listen and running back and forth in a very European fashion, lugging huge fenders the size of a small Fiat to place between the gaudiness and the wooden dock. Her adult son was following orders like a whipped dog and so was everyone else on the boat which included the daughter-in-law, two grandsons and the father who was the acting “Captain”. She definitely was the “boss” or so it seemed the way everyone followed orders. The boat was rubbing on the sides of the tall wooden piers as their fenders were hung way too low down into the curve of the hull and doing absolutely nothing except making it possible to get big scratches into that fancy silvery finish from rubbing nakedly against the docks.
We watched the comical scene as they were all running around the boat like chickens with their heads cut off, doing everything wrong, but miraculously, and finally much to every observer’s surprise, they managed to get the fenders raised to protect the boat and secured with strange funny knots. We wondered what in the heck are these people doing in this big God awful gaudy yacht. The boat looked so out of place here with the rest of us. And why are there no professional captain and crew? They didn’t seem to be under control or know anything about boating.
Just when we thought they were settled, Larry yells to me “Jayne, watch out!” The older woman was now riding down our dock in one of the fold up bikes heading right for us like a bat outta hell. I move out of the way and just in time. These people are crazy hyper. Anyway, at least this prodded us to re-examine our lines and it didn’t hurt to double a few up. I forgot how challenging the Bahamas can be. It was a quick reminder.
PEOPLE WE MEET
We took a walk out to the jetty to see how bad the waves and seas were. As we headed out the crunchy white coral covered path Larry ran into an old toothless boater who we later discovered was here on his 27 foot boat. He crossed the Gulf yesterday too, running a straight shot over (in that little old thing) all the way from Fort Pierce. Geez, and I thought our boat was small. I’m always amazed at the people we meet on these boating adventures. They are either adventurous fools or really smart.
STUCK IN BAD SEAS
As we walked out the path something caught my attention. It was a small catamaran on the outside of the jetty. They were bobbing up and down in white capped waves and looked to me to be in trouble. What in the heck are they doing out there? They were totally exposed to the weather. The only way out of their predicament was to head out the same entrance they came, back to the Gulf side and it was raging seas and waves crashing in towards them. If they did get out, then they would have to make a turn and try to get in the jetty, and this morning that jetty opening was busy with breaking rollers.
They did have their anchor out but also obviously were running the engine so they could stay in one place. It looked like there were two people aboard. I watched a long time and wondered if they needed help but they never looked over my way. Once I saw a man come out on the bow and look ahead as if to try to read the water, to see if they could go forward and get out. One person aboard finally did look my way but didn’t wave to let us know were in trouble or ask for help, so I can’t figure it out.
As we came back to the dock we mentioned it to some of the other boaters. Some said they had noticed them too. Dire Straits (the old toothless boater) said they had been out there at least since day break and well before. No one was sure when they got there. The poor people must be exhausted. How will they ever get out of there?
IN A FLUSTER AGAIN
By the time we got back to the boat, I saw the French were in a fluster again. I walked over and I guess they dropped the bike in the water. The son was fully dressed but with snorkel and fins diving under the boat. Eventually he surfaced with the bike and handed it up to the surface. I leaned over and grabbed it pulling it up high enough until the dad grabbed it from me and pulled it aboard. The daughter in law was the only that thanked me. The rest were rude it seemed or oblivious.
We had hardly settled down for breakfast, when I see the French people are at it again. They are all agitated and running around their gangways. What? I can’t believe it! They are leaving! They are pulling in lines and the father is inside at the helm over working those thrusters again trying to get them off the dock. The winds were blowing 25 knots or more blowing them hard against the piers. I guess they decided they had enough of it here rubbing against the piers and were leaving. We will never know the reason. Who in their right mind would leave the dock in this weather? I got the camera again thinking this is gonna’ be good and headed out to the jetty as quickly as I could to catch them banging into the waves heading out.
But by the time I started heading out to the jetty, I noticed that the catamaran that was in the bad seas on the other side of the jetty miraculously somehow made it in to the marina! There they were, looking like drowned rats, exhausted and limp, circling and circling in the harbor basin. They were looking very lost and no one was paying any attention to them. I wondered if I should walk out to the nearest pier and see if they need help with lines but I see the black dock master was talking to them so I figured they would be taken care of.
BACK TO THE FRENCH
As I headed out to the jetty again I see that the French were finally able to push off the dock and were headed out into the harbor basin. The family is still running around trying to stow those huge fenders and whatever else all the while the crazy mother is yelling and waving her hands yelling orders. I can’t believe these people are really going out in this. The whole family must be either really stupid or very gullible to think it is wise to head out in this.
And before you know it, and more important before things are fully stowed, and still with people running around the boat and some even on the back swim step, the father “captain” guns it and heads out the jetty through the breakers. They go full force into the seas with people amazingly running around outside. Geez someone could have fallen over board or worse. They made it through the waves like riding a bull in a rodeo going up and down into the waves and the spray was amazing. The boat wavered in all directions. First the “captain” headed straight then went north then after awhile headed south and I can only guess the decision was to go south instead of try to get through the cut further north. There was no other option. There they went. I watched for a long time in disbelief. Oh my gosh! What a scene.
As I started to walk back to the boat I saw that the catamaran was finally secure at a dock. Wow, what a story they must have to tell. I hope we get to talk with them.
I came back to tell Larry all this stuff but he had his nose into the computer trying to fix something and could care less. And just as I got settled again, I hear the big sports fisher starting his engine. Okay, here I go again, out the door and down the dock, and Larry taking no notice. This time I go around the other side of the marina to try to get a better shot of them going out the jetty to the ocean. I walked as fast as I could and was able to keep up with them. So far they had only left the dock and were hovering in the marina basin. It looked like they were getting fishing gear ready and stowing lines. I managed to walk as far as you could go out the jetty and crawled up on top of a coral pile that was left over from some construction project to get a higher view and made it just in time too as I only had to wait a few minutes before they took off.
Wow, it was exciting to see them go. The captain looked like he was riding a chariot!
I could clearly see up the coast from my position and there were layer upon layer of strong sets of waves hitting the reef, the same the area where the people in the catamaran came through just a little while ago. Wow, they are lucky they made it! I just can’t believe the crazy things going on around here!
Wow, there they go (the sports fisher), up and down, sinking into the huge deep wells of the seas made by the enormous swells and spray was flying high in the wind. Nothing seems to phase these sports fishing guys. They have much more control in that sports fisher than the French had in that big silver gaudy boat. They didn’t waver either like the French. They headed in the direction they wanted to go and kept with it heading immediately south going to who knows where I wonder.
GETTING THE SCOOP
I just couldn’t resist stopping at the fuel shack on my walk back. Inside is the black harbor master who helped us with lines yesterday and a black female who I think handles the radio calls of boaters coming into the marina and who gives the boaters their slip assignments. I just had to ask about them about the people in the catamaran. To my surprise they said the sailors had been out there all night. They saw their anchor light bobbing back and forth throughout the night. They told me they arrived late yesterday but didn’t want to pay the cost of the dockage telling them it was too expensive. So they instead made the decision to spend the night out there at anchor but obviously they didn’t watch the weather report and were caught in the Front.
The dock master said it was lucky they got through the waves and reef to come inside but even when they got inside they still didn’t want to pay. The dock master said they couldn’t dock if they didn’t pay. So I guess they finally gave in. (We are paying $80 a day plus $15 for water and $25 for power a day). Hey, I’d hand over my last nickel to come inside rather than ride the waves as they did out there. Are they crazy?
HEADING FOR TROUBLE?
I then asked about the French. I said I couldn’t believe they were going anywhere in this weather. They said the French told them they were going to Grand Abaco Cay (which Larry and I can’t figure out where that is). He told me it is about 86 miles from here. It didn’t make any sense as the winds were crazy and the seas wild. The dock master said that their boat can handle the seas out there but when they try to make the cut into the Grand Abaco in these seas, they said “There’s no way!”.
They told me something even morning interesting while I was in the dock office. They said the French missed the jetty yesterday and instead went over that reef and into the shallows on the other side of the jetty where the catamaran was! They then started to head towards the marina from that direction and the water is only a foot deep in there. The dock master hailed them on the radio and told them to stop immediately informing them that the water was too shallow. The French stopped and either got stuck there or were confused as it took them 2 hours to finally get out (and that’s when the seas were flat). He said they amazingly got back over the reef and into the jetty to the marina. I guess that’s why they were so hyper when they were docking. Crazy stuff! How in the world do people do things like this? The dock master said they came all the way from Miami yesterday and are now heading south again to Grand Abaco Cay, in the same direction they covered yesterday. Nothing makes sense. How these people manage to survive on the water is beyond me.
The day we came over we kept hearing a Pan Pan from the USCG about a missing boater that was overdue for a crossing from Fort Pierce, FL to Marsh Harbor, in the Abacos. If he was out there in the seas the days previous to our crossing in his 25 foot power boat as they said, he too must have been nuts. They repeated the pan pan over and over during the day.
We finally read on the boater’s net that they found him on Great Sail Cay, an uninhabited cay in the Abacos. It’s a popular anchorage for most boaters once they leave here, the West End. He said he had made a wrong turn and grounded his boat on a rock and then it was torn apart by the following storm. He was able to make it to the cay but after being stranded there for four days, he was running out of food and water. He tried to yell at the anchored boats but no one could hear him. Finally a fishing boat picked him up and was taking him to Freeport. The most interesting fact of this story is that the guy is 79 years old and said he on his way to see his girlfriend! Here’s the story. (Another crazy boater)
I hate to continue on but during the three days of none stop wind and crazy seas, there still was another story. An older couple, at least in their late 70s or early 80s decided they were going to give it a try. I heard their engine start and everyone else did too. We all came out of our boats to watch. The old lady was on the bow of the boat getting the lines off the posts that held the bow in place and someone on the dock threw the stern lines aboard and out he tries to come from the slip. The wind is blowing him sideways in the slip and he can barely get out, scrapping the posts on one side the whole length. I could see the guy in the boat next to him, running the length of his boat, trying to fend him off with his boat pole.
He finally made it clear of the slip but the wind was blowing him towards the bulk head of the marina. Miraculously he managed to turn the boat and drive out the lane of the slips but not without banging and crashing into the piers on the way out. Fortunately, no boats where in those slips or he would have done some real damage.
I hurried again out the jetty along with some other to watch them. The old woman managed to get in the boat during all this and up to the fly bridge to sit in the other helm seat next to the old codger. Nothing was stopping this guy as he headed out. The boat was thrown all over the place and it was touch and go for several minutes but he managed to get out and fight his way north to Indian Cut and by God he headed in there like it was nothing. We all watched in a stupor as he did this. He managed to get through and on his way to God only knows where and why.
Finally, after three days, the winds dropped. The flags on the halyards of the sailboats had changed direction and were blowing lightly from the north. Our boat was no longer tugging at the doubled up lines. I saw one boater stirring about the dock, rolling in his power line.
Everyone was beginning to stir. Larry headed over to the fuel dock to pay up. We would leave the docks about 8:30 or 9:00. I wondered if the seas really had time to calm down. Larry can never be patient and wait. He likes to get going on a long trip early. The tide would be the highest through the cut at 11:00 so it was better to wait but we’ll see. He says we have plenty of depth to get through.
TO LEAVE OR NOT TO LEAVE
Everyone had been gathering on the docks last night and the topic of conversation was “leaving”. It was no longer the question of whether to leave or not to leave. There were lots of discussions about when the tide would be highest at the cut through the reef and some were discussing their drafts, like who had the deepest, etc. It was unanimous as they all decided, that tomorrow was the day to leave. The day had finally arrived.
The old toothless guy on Dire Straits said he was going and bragged that he would make it all the way to Man-O-War which means he’s got to go out Whale Cut into the Atlantic on the other end. He said he’ll run 20 knots all the way so will have no problem. Most boaters make it to Great Sail Cay which is about 45 miles. We anchored there last time but there was no place nice to go ashore with Ziggy so we decided we’d go all the way to Green Turtle today. Back then we had Ziggy trained to do his duty on a special mat so it wasn’t like we had to get to shore. Even though Zig would probably be encouraged to do his duty again on a mat on this boat, it still is hard on a pup to not to get to shore. They need to run around a bit. So, we’ll push it hard and try to get to Green Turtle for Ziggy and if not, we’ll stop at Spanish Cay about an hour earlier.
WHAT GOES ON
The “cheap” captain of the catamaran is still here. Three days of paying dock fees must really be getting to him. Yesterday as you walked the docks you could hear the beeping sound of people punching in their way points. The captain on the sailboat Tybeetime, out of Panama City, FL and Alegria, out of Norfolk, VA, both in slips across the way from us, had been fidgeting on their boats most of yesterday: battening things down, filling water tanks, getting fuel in small containers, etc. Others were walking back and forth, up and down the docks, reconfirming the weather. Some were making the long trek over to the fuel dock to fill up their bright red orange cans with extra diesel just in case for the long trip tomorrow.
The West End is the take off point for cruisers and a time of bonding. That’s the way I see it. Everywhere we’ve gone where there is serious cruising involved, perfect strangers begin to bond and match up to each other unknowingly becoming partners for crossing treacherous waters or long stretches especially if you don’t know the waters or have had previous experience.
A couple we had met at the marina in West Palm Beach was bonding with us. They had a large power cat and had never been off shore or in the Bahamas. We came across the Gulf with them. Sometimes these strange bonds become real friendships and you find yourself sometimes traveling for weeks together. Others you see at the docks will be acquaintances that you will see on and off again throughout your stops in the Abacos.
The bonding at first has more to do with how fast your boat goes, what type it is, and what it draws, rather than whether you like the people aboard or and might get along. We both could go 16 knots and it was a good match for crossing a good distance together. One wouldn’t hold the other up and if something went wrong we have a partner to help out. They were docked nearby when we were in Palm Beach where we had never said much to each except a polite hello and how are you, but as the days grew near for the crossing, the bonding began and then it was decided we’d both go at the same time, etc. It’s predictable. So today we again would be making the long trek together.
FIRST ONE TO GO GET’S EVERYONE ANTSY
Okay, there goes the first trawler. It’s the first engine heard at the dock. That will get everyone stirring. Some still aren’t up yet but they will be poking their heads up and watching as the first boat goes out. The sun has lit up the sky but still had not peeked over the resort roof tops. Another engine started, okay that’s two. It’s a big sports fisher. They can go out in anything as proved the other day as I photographed one going out into the waves from the jetty. They look like they are riding chariots, up there in the fly bridge, all they need is a big whip to smack the waves and swells into shape and the picture would be complete.
It’s always kind of predictable that the sail boaters will bond with each other and they usually leave first. They go slower and have deeper drafts. It will take them longer to reach their destination so have to leave earlier to cover the same distance. Their deeper drafts mean they have to be more careful of the shallow waters. Timing the tide and depths will be an important factor for them.
I walked around to meet Larry who was coming back from the dock office after settling up the bill. We looked out at the seas and they were flat, nothing like the turmoil we had watched for the last three days. The reef nearby that had been covered with breaking waves as far as the eye could see was now quiet as a baby and blue, no white water.
MY PREDICTION IS RIGHT
I was right. Larry is antsy and wants to start the engines up. Every time he sees others getting ready to go, he wants to go too. I was ready too, just like him. I don’t like standing around and waiting either. I had retied all the lines in a simple slip knot around the posts so I could release them quickly. I learned from past experience that you do not want to be struggling with those lines trying to get them untied when you are leaving the dock especially after a significant storm which ties those lines even tighter.
Bob, the captain from Final Approach, the “ex American Airlines pilot and Marine pilot”, (as we heard over and over again) was coming down the dock. He sensed we wanted to go and so got busy too getting ready to leave as he was our cruising companion today. He was still messing around talking to people on the dock getting some kind of info on how to get a discount at Marsh Harbor Marina. Larry said “We’ll wait for you out in the harbor basin”.
Ziggy was aboard and running around the gangway watching me, always concerned for my well being and wanting me to get back on the boat. I told Larry which lines I’d take off first and last and where I would step on the boat to push us off. We were ready. Off the lines came Lickety split and then I leaned over on the boat from the dock pushing us away as I stepped on. Larry backed her out and we were on our way.
IN SINGLE FILE
We headed out to the boat basin to wait for Final Approach. I was busy putting the fenders and lines away while Final Approach came out. We waited awhile in the basin and soon a sailboat and the trawler, Takitez, came out. We all headed out the jetty in a single file line and back into the ocean making our way up the coast following our carefully placed way points. We were going to wait for the old toothless guy in Dire Straits to come along because he said he was familiar with the cut but he never showed up. Eh, we don’t need him anyway so off we went the four of us.
Final Approach headed boldly out ahead of everyone and into the cut at a pretty fast speed. We were a little surprised at his exuberance and self confidence. We never take anything for granted around here, especially shoals and unmarked cuts. There are no markers and no dredging or maintenance and no Coast Guard, or Sea Tow nearby to come to the rescue. You are pretty much on your own in the Bahamas except for the other cruisers and they do help each other out.
We headed in to the cut but Final Approach was going a slightly different course, not what we had put in our chart plotter. Where in the heck is he going? Suddenly he quickly turned left and then right and then left again like he had hit shallow water and was looking for a deeper spot. We just kept on our plotted course but watched in surprise. Finally he slowed his speed down and seemed to get back on course that the rest of us were headed in. We stuck with our course which is always a good thing no matter where you see someone going. He later said that he was cross tracking through the cut and something went awry.
THROUGH THE CUT FINALLY
We had plenty of depth below us the whole way through. Takitez was following close behind us. We could see the sailboat masts far ahead on the horizon (those that had left earlier that morning). We all had made it through the cut and where in the safety and protection of the banks now. We will soon catch up and pass them. Takitez called us on the radio and thanked us for waiting for them so he could follow us safely through the cut. We said we’d see them somewhere along the way which I’m sure we will. We run almost twice as fast as he can so were quickly leaving them in the distance as we and Final Approach picked up speed.
We cruised the 5 to 6 miles through the Indians (as they call them), the banks, and now had decent depths on all sides for several miles. We could now relax and enjoy the ride. The sky is hazy and so the water though beautiful turquoise was not as spectacular as it could be when the sun is out. I can’t sufficiently describe how beautiful it is to be out on the waters in the Bahamas. The colors are so pure and clear and you feel like you’re in heaven. There is no land in sight just the clean pure colors of the water and sky. Your boat looks as if it is floating across the sky.
We just got a call from Bob in Final Approach. I’ve been trying to put my finger on who he reminds of and I think he’s a mix between Bill O’Reilly and Walter Matthau. He sounds and even looks like a cross between the two of them. He said they’d like to go with us to Green Turtle and he is asking if that was OK with us. We don’t mind.
It will take us about 6 hours of cruising at 15.6 knots. We have 17.6 feet of water under us and about 6-10 knot winds out of the north.
Ziggy was anxious and crying the first hour but now has settled in to a nice nap.
Around 11:30 we were approaching Great Sale Cay. That is where most of the boaters stop and anchor for the evening and where the 79 year old sail boater lost his boat and was stranded a few days ago. The boaters that anchor here will have one more day of good weather and then the madness will start all over again. A new storm was due. We’ve not had a break these last couple of months.
I heated up some leftover spaghetti and we had lunch just as Dire Straits finally caught up with us. He has a long day ahead of him. He zipped by waving as he went. I hope he has an easy ride through Whale Cut today. He’s another crazy nut in my book to go all that way.
The seas have been kind to us today though. The sun is hidden behind streaky clouds so the clear blue seas are not clear and not as blue as I remembered when we crossed this stretch last time. It could be a more perfect day but we aren’t complaining.
Final Approach calls again and asks where we plan to stay at Green Turtle Cay. Larry says we’re going to try a marina in Black Sound this time saying it’s close to town. Bob calls back later to ask if we will have enough water below us to get in. Larry says we’ll be fine. Bob thinks it will be low tide but Larry says we still have a couple hours until low tide and that will give both of us at least a 1 ˝ feet below us. I checked the books. One cruising book chart says we have enough depth and in the other it looks questionable. Larry says we’ll call the marina when we approach and see what they say. Larry still thinks it will be fine.
AH OH, ZIGGY’S GOTTA GO
Ziggy goes out on the back deck and starts sniffing around. Maybe he’s got to go? He’s never gone on this boat. I wonder if he remembers how to do it from the Nordhavn. Geez that’s been four years ago now. Can dogs remember thing from four years ago? And will he be able to adapt the same information to a different boat and situation? I showed him the mat and he sniffs it but there are no previous smells to encourage him. He comes back in but I can tell he’s either sea sick or has to go. He goes out again and looks as me with this forlorn look. I point to the mat and I tell him it’s OK. That was all the encouragement he needed. Sure enough he takes a long pee! He had to go and bad. He remembered the routine even though it was four years ago. I think that is pretty remarkable. He is a darn smart dog, ornery, but smart.
We had to reward him big time same as we did on the Nordhavn. He didn’t forget that part either. And barked insisting on at least three dog treats. Greedy little guy. He sure knows how to work us.
It’s about 1:30 and we’re still going a steady pace. We pass Center of the World Rock. It’s a pretty calm day. The water is a tiny bit choppy. We see low land on all sides now as we have Little Abaco Island on our starboard and the outer cays on our port. Final Approach is still leading the way.
I pull out a couple of steaks from the freezer to thaw for dinner tonight. We will get in late afternoon and I don’t want to try to find a place to eat in town and deal with leaving Ziggy on the boat alone after this long day.
NEW PLYMOUTH IN SIGHT
Pretty soon we make our approach to New Plymouth, Green Turtle Cay. The day is still hazy so the water still is a bit cloudy looking but the pastel colors of New Plymouth still looked as wonderful as ever as we made our approach. It’s truly a beautiful sight from the water. It looks just like it did in the early 1800’s, maybe not so colorful.
Larry hailed the marina and asked if we had enough water to get in the marked channel. “You should” was the answer. We told them we had another boat coming with us and gave him the specs and asked if he had room for them. “We have lots of room, come on ahead Captain.” Final Approach wanted us to go first. He followed us in.
It’s a bit intimidating coming in with nothing but sticks for markers and little arrows tacked on to them but we did just fine with at least a 1 ˝ feet below us like Larry said.
Black Sound Marina is deep into Black Sound. We found it easily and it was going to be an easy docking on the end of the T Pier. I switched lines to the port side so we could have our stern out and not facing Final Approach who would be right behind us. They would have a clear view right to our bed if we didn’t.
While I switched lines they went up to the T and began docking ahead again. There were two men who helped with their lines. It was almost low tide so the docks were high and you really needed someone to help with the lines as our boat is so low you can’t reach the posts easily.
HELP OR NO HELP?
Soon a woman appeared from one of the boats at the dock. She kept motioning us to come in and for me to give her the lines. I didn’t know who she was and I really preferred having the dock master take our lines than someone I didn’t know. I declined saying “Thank you but we’re in no rush, we’ll wait”. She kept insisting and then said in a bossy way “It’s really silly how you are wasting your fuel and your bow thrusters, throw me your lines!” I looked back at Larry and he motioned me to throw her a line and I did. She tied the bow line too short so Larry couldn’t pull up forward, by now I had given her a stern line and she started to instruct me on how I should be doing the lines “when you dock a boat”. Okay, I’ve had enough of her so I shut her up quick by telling her I knew very well how to do the lines as we’ve been just about everywhere she could imagine. Kind of mean I guess, but she was something else. Soon the two guys came over and shoo’ed her away and finished the lines.
SEEMED DIFFERENT AROUND HERE
I wasn’t too impressed with the place. But we were in. At least we had a nice view of the harbor and boats at anchor. I took Zig for a quick walk and the area just didn’t look the same as I remembered. There was a lot of trash around and the smell of sewage permeated the air. To walk to town we had to take Zig by a yard with a long low chain link fence where a pit bull chased us, up and down, barking and circling wildly. All I could do was walk as fast as we could as I stared at the “BEWARE OF DOG” sign wondering if he would decide to jump over. After a short walk for Ziggy we came back to the boat. Everyone was pretty tired but not too tired to have a cocktail on the dock to celebrate. We all retired early that night.
We’ll see if we like this marina but I have a feeling we’re going to move up to white sound and Green Turtle Club.