Swell Bridle on a catamaran {gasp!}

Our first swell bridle in Rum Cay, Bahamas

Here's a dirty little secret.  I've mentioned it before and I'll mention it again.  We use a swell bridle on our catamaran.  I know, I know.  We aren't supposed to roll!  Our glasses of Bordeaux (in actual glass) shouldn't tip over!  At anchor and on a mooring, the boat should face into the wind.  However, if the waves are different from the wind, then we rock side to side.  "Where's the Dramamine?"  There's nothing worse than being seasick at anchor.  And of course, the different sound (waves slapping the side of the hulls) keeps us awake--if you can sleep thinking about what this is doing to your anchor.

We've used it in Turks and Caicos, on the mooring ball in Statia (WHAT?!) and used it most of the stay in Simpson Bay, Sint Maarten.  In fact the crew of the Leopard anchored behind us did a slow pass each day, trying to figure out why were were sideways to them.  The crew of a fellow PDQ 36 Minuet came straight over after putting out a stern anchor, and said, "What the heck?"  

If you google it, you will find lots of sailing blogs, usually referring back to Bruce Van Sant and Rum Cay, Bahamas (where we first used it).  The fact is, as you travel down the Caribbean, the anchorages are less protected and become more exposed to ocean swell.  Here's what Bruce says:

Passage's South, p 133

The Gentleman's Guide to Passages South, The Thornless Path to Windward by Bruce Van Sant, pg 133, "Swell Bridle.  Rum Cay lets you demonstrate a swell bridle to those fortunate sailors who never needed one in their home waters. From Georgetown to Luperon, and at odd points south, you shall anchor in open harbors where swell can sweep around the points.  If roll annoys you, don't dash out into a full gale to avoid it, but fetch a boat's length of line and tie a rolling hitch to your rode at the bow.  Cleat off the other end to your stern, then let out scope until you face the swell.  Now you shall pitch a bit instead of rolling.  You may also need some vernier adjustment to the stern."

A comfortable angle, most of the time

We can use our current bridle set up one of two ways.  According to Beth Leonard's, The Voyaging Handbook, "...one side of the bridle can be shortened to bring the boat into a more comfortable alignment with the waves".  In more extreme conditions (ie. monohull friends left on overnight sail to get out of rolly, rolly, puke, puke), we leave one side of the bridle on the bow cleat and walk the other side of the bridle back to a stern cleat (or rolling hitch back to an aft winch).  We personally find 45 to the wind and waves the most comfortable.  

However, this may reduce the breeze coming in the hatches, the rigging may vibrate (or "hum"), and it will confuse the heck out of other boaters as they arrive in the anchorage!

Our longest leg yet & Goodbye, Bahamas!

Hey, look!  We finally got out the spinnaker!  Pretty.

Clarence to Mayaguana:  We're up early, but we can't leave too early. It's a 24-hour run to Mayaugana and we need to arrive with good light to enter the harbor.  A Lagoon catamaran arrives at our dock, so we grab lines & give them the rundown ("came from Mayaguana into the wind & waves but the worst part was entrance to Clarence!").  They return the favor and throw lines for us as we depart.  The First Mate secures lines & fenders, then takes the helm to follow our bread crumbs back out.  The waves out on the Atlantic are from the NE and white caps are created as they break over the reef, right outside the harbor entrance.   It's actually not to difficult to navigate--stay between the white caps off our port and starboard!  We work our way around the point by 7:30 am and they wind and waves are now behind us. The Captain goes up on deck (my least fav part) to deploy the spinnaker. It goes up with only minor glitches and we are doing 5-6 kts with 10-12 kts of wind behind us and both engines are off!  We're sailing!  It's grey ahead of us and I'm still getting used to new flutters & squeaks as The Captain goes down to relax. How to I douse this thing in an emergency?  "You don't."  I post a picture of the spinnaker on FaceBook and I get a note from our friend Marc, the previous owner--let it out more!  Well, that's tons better.  Technology is an amazing thing.  Cargo ship #1 is off our starboard, heading up Long Island.

Open water passages are a lot like flying. Hours and hours of boredom punctuated by a few moments of excitement. We do 3-hour shifts, with the off-shift person trying to spend as much time down below resting, as possible.  For the first time, we are comfortable reading (and occasionally cooking!) The Captain even downloaded a few tv shows for his iPad.

It doesn't look that big or that close, but it was 650 ft long!

We enter Crooked Passage, a shipping channel.  Technically, this should be less stressful during the day, but with the engines off and the spinnaker up, we are limited on our manueverability.  I call the cargo ship #2 on the radio and say "Hi.  Sailboat here.  See our pretty spinnaker?  We have you in sight.  We're attempting to turn behind you, butttttttt..."  The 650 ft freighter graciously offers to make a slight turn also, so we don't become his hood ornament.  Thank you, Toronto!  

Working in the engine well while underway.  (And that's the ball of line/seaweed/plastic garbage)

By 2:00 pm the winds are less than 8 and I suggest unraveling the spinnacker sock that is twisted around the halyard while winds are light. The Captain gets so dang excited that he got it straightened out, that he yanks the spinnaker down. By the time he gets back to the cockpit, the wind is back up to 10.  "Huh?  I'm not going back up there." The genoa is unfurled instead and we start an engine.  "Uh oh.  The port engine is vibrating."  (We're using the port because the starboard alternator is acting up.)  More working on boats in exotic places--The Captain raises the engine out of the water and discovers a piece of "ocean trash" wrapped around the prop.  (LOVE OUR RETRACTABLE ENGINES!)  As the sun sets, the calm winds try to clock SW!  That's not in the forecast.  They are supposed to switch more northerly.  Motoring on one engine at 5 kts.

Cargo ship #3 passes behind us as we pass Crooked Island.  I have 2 bars of cellular!  Still sailing with 10 kts of wind behind us.

Amelia the Navigator wearing her tin-foil tiara to replace the missing radar reflector.

By my 10:00 pm "off-duty", I sleep the whole 3 hours. When I return we've passed the Planas.  The Captain saw a white nav light go by, probably sv Strider. according to our AIS.  There is no cell service, so I'm now tweeting on our Iridium.  We enter the Mayaguana Passage, our second ship channel.  As soon as I take the helm and The Captain ducks below, I hear a "clink" (like a penny or washer dropping), then CLUNK (screw or pocket knife).  No sign of anything amiss in the cockpit or on deck that I can see. The Captain appears in companionway and says, "What was that?  It sounded big and over my head?" (He'd gone up to our berth to lay down).   I shine a flashlight up at the rigging.  Is the radar reflector gone!? I glance at the chartplotter and see ship #4 (but it's only 190 ft.  No big deal).  I cross over the genoa and shine a flashlight on it to make us more visible.  I'M AWAKE! Better than coffee.  The wind starts to clock back around to N @ 4 kts.

What a beautiful sight--Mayaguana!

As the sun rises, we have Mayaguana in sight. I'm feeling so invigorated, I want to press on to Provo! However, math proves we wouldn't clear the entrance reef before dark.  (I had him talked into it for a second.)  Ultimately, we decide to pass up Mayaguana harbour for the staging anchorage on the SE point.  This knocks 10 miles off our next leg to Provo.  We also avoid navigating the reef and coral heads to anchor.  We can make Provo in daylight from there. Then the Captain suggests another overnight. The winds are supposed to start increasing by noon tomorrow.  Otherwise, we lose our weather window. That gives us the day to nap, heat up some food and tidy up and raise anchor unobstructed (we wouldn't be able to leave the harbour until "good light.")

Stats:  Total time 16:45 + 10:09 = 26:54, avg speed 5.1, total distance 85.7 + 50.5 = 136.2 nm

Raising anchor in Mayaguana

Mayaguana to Providenciales, Turks and Caicos:  I'm up in time to make coffee before our 11:00 pm departure.  Splashing behind the boat keeps drawing me into the cockpit.  When I shine a flashlight into the water, a fish or a turtle dives back down out of sight.  I finally stand there long enough to see tiny teeny, tiny jellyfish(?) floating in the water.  That must be what they are after.

OK, "raise anchor unobstructed" was an over statement.  Before sunset, I took note of which way we were facing and our relationship to the island. After sunset, I can hear the waves crashing on the NE side of the island and try to picture the limestone cliff that was in front of us. We have a longer-than-usual brief before we pull up anchor in the pitch black (not a single light on shore).  I'll use compass heading, Garmin heading and the depth finder (water should be getting deeper instead of shallower) to turn us away from the island.  I usually prefer to have two sets of eyes on the chart plotter for trickier navigation like this, but he needs to secure the anchor--with only a head lamp.

He turns around and gives me a thumbs up from the bow to tell me the anchor is up and I'm driving--and blinds me with is head lamp!  "Sorry."  I'm holding a compass heading of west and the water is getting deeper.  That was exciting.  Who needs coffee after that?!  The Captain takes first shift.  

I was eager to continue on our journey without much rest because the ocean swell had been so comfortable.  The waves should still be behind us.  However, it's noisier down below than it was before.  There are waves slapping the bottom of the bridge deck, but I still doze.  When I pop back out, I can see the glow of the Turks on the horizon.  We have 10-15 kts of wind and both engines are off.  As I take the helm, I see lights off our starboard but nothing on the AIS.  Perhaps they are farther away than they look.  Boom.  There he is, and he will pass right off our bow.  I wake The Captain and he elects to furl the genoa and turn 90 degrees starboard.  Oddly, this seems to improve our ride.  We clear the ship and turn back.  As the sun comes up, we can finally see the waves coming at us from quartering to beam with the occasional white cap, which is what is slapping the bridge deck as we crest the wave.  "Turn back right so I can sleep."  Huh?  Turks & Caicos is over there?!    

We cross the 12 nautical mile ring that means we've officially broken free from the Bahamas and arrived in Turks and Caicos.  We arrive at Sandbore Channel, a break in the west end of the reef surrounding the Turks & Caicos, at sunrise.  We clear the two mile-wide entrance with only a minor current and navigate coral heads for another 9 miles/2 hours before reaching the Sapodilla Bay anchorage.  Kelly Nicole waves as we go by ("We may you breakfast, but we ate it.  Sorry.")

I finally wrestle The Captain into the dinghy to clear Customs by 10:30 am.  He dinghies to the beach and heads out "on a short walk to customs" per the guidebook.  However, the guard at the gate waves him down the road.  After walking at least a mile, a local pulls over and offers him a ride.  Jose has to make a phone call to find out where The Captain should be and then turns around and drives him back and points him down a "goat path".  He clears customs easily but is instructed to come back at 2:15 for immigration.  No sleep for you today, honey. 

Stats:  Total time 10:12, avg speed 4.7 kts, total time.  Sailed two hours.  Motor-sailed.

Plan B. Clarence Town it is!

The Captain will later blame the Navigator for too much rum, too early in the morning for the wrong turn...

Mayaguana/Clarence Town:  We're sound asleep until 3:00 am when I hear a beep-beep-beep.  "What is THAT?!"  We're both get up but can't find the source. Anchor alarm?  No. Smoke alarm?  No.  Electrical panel?  No. iPad?  No. We go back to bed but neither one of us can go back to sleep.

I'm up before my 5:30 am alarm. It turns out we both have queasy stomaches. (At least Amelia the Cat looks perky!) Are we seasick at anchor 3 days of rolling?  Possible, but we both took sea sick meds last night. Nerves?  Maybe. Food poisoning. I hope not.  I feel better the longer I'm up, but with a 27-hour leg with a moonless night ahead, The Captain makes the tough decision.  We’re going to Clarence Town instead of Mayaguana. We need to be 100% and if not, then in a more secure harbor for the next wind clock. We notify Kelly Nicole & The Captain goes back to bed. I start our new route planning & prep the boat. My research shows the marina in Clarence Town has the best protection from strong north winds. Reviews are mixed about how they treat cruisers, so I fire off an email. We watch Kelly Nicole depart the harbor. (That sucks!)  We finally get moving by 8:30 ish and drop in behind the catamaran, Sol Searching. 

We have a decent day of long-period swells, about 2 ft high on the beam. The wind is 9-13 kts at our aft quarter with the genoa and one engine.   As we near Clarence Town, there is a procession of boats on our chart plotter including Neko, Pilgrim and of course, Sol Searching.  We navigate the tricky harbor entrance and make a pass through the desired anchorage. We don't see any room, so we drop to the end of the line for the night.

Anchorage boat count is 9.

Sunset from the harbor, facing out to the reef

Stats:  Total time 7:21, avg speed 4.8, total mileage 35.5.  Motor sail 2/3 genoa & one engine.  Motored 1/3. 

On the dock at Flying Fish Marina

Day 2:  We’re up by 8:00 am and the marina has confirmed our slip.  The Captain still isn’t a 100% but he’s happy about picking up anchor for the marina.  (It’s been 2 months since we’ve been to a marina!)  Boat count at Flying Fish is 4 sailboats, 5 sportfish, and 1 motor yacht.  Hot, long showers are the first order of business followed by lunch at the outdoor bar off our bow.  

The south end of Long Island was hit hard by Hurricane Joaquin.  When I check in at the office, I’m told most of the businesses were "flattened" by the hurricane and there is no word of reopening--only the marina and a restaurant are still open.  We go for a walk through town and even the church is locked (it's on the highest point and is supposed to have magnificent views from the towers).  We retire to the boat for an afternoon of TV (The boss is feeling better but still tired.  Must have been a stomach bug or 24-hour thing).  The Captain briefly troubleshoots our starboard alternator (he doesn't have the parts to fix it, so we elect to stay on the dock until departure instead of reanchoring, so our batteries are topped). There isn't really a dinghy dock at Flying Fish, but there is a ladder next to our slip so we get to say hello to all of our fellow cruisers including Sv Pilgrim (Boulder, CO. We first met them on Monument Hill in Georgetown). 

Sunrise

Day 3:  Lazy day.  sv Pilgrim departs. Winds clock through west at less than 20 but start to pick up as they go north. We're comfy, tucked in behind the restaurant. 

Here's at least five sharks in one picture

A close up

Local fisherman with their catch.  They were giving away fillets!

and the sharks get the scraps!

When we first arrived in Clarence Town, the clear blue water around our boat made a snorkel seem tempting. Someone has to check the anchor and there are a lot of reefs in the bay. Then The Captain saw a note on the chart plotter over by the marina--"Aggressive sharks reported by locals." Hmmm. Must be attracted by the sport-fish boats. When we arrived at the marina, I joked with the dock master about "missing the dock and going for a swim." "YOU DO NOT WANT TO SWIM HERE! Sharks." Hmmm. Today, walking back from the bathroom, I notice some fishermen cleaning a huge wahoo and tails splashing in the water. I walk over. As they clean & fillet, they throw the scraps in. Another fisherman gives me the free tour--"lemon shark, nurse shark of course, and the big 10 ft one is a bull shark--you do not want to be in the water with one of those. Oh, and tarpon & a big grouper." It is low tide--apparently, there are usually more. I've paid a lot of money to visit aquariums & see a lot less! At least two of the sharks were bleeding from the scrum. Our reef book says the lemon & bull are rare in the Bahamas, so it was a treat to see them up close (from the dock). Oh, and I'm off snorkeling for awhile. 

Butter poached lobster with baked potato and plantains at Rowdy's

There's a Super Bowl party at Rowdy’s Restaurant, so we walk over for dinner.  (You know you’ve lost touch with day-to-day happenings back home, when it takes a room full of cruisers to figure out when the Super Bowl is and who’s playing).  I have the most amazing butter poached local lobster.  However, after 2 rounds, we’re headed back home before the pre-game is even over.  I’m sure someone on FaceBook will tell us who won… 

Day 4:  Today is chores, but the power is out in the morning (all across the island, we’re told).  We manage to get the water tanks full before the marina accumulator ran out.  Sol Searching departs.  The power is back on by 10:00 am, so I scramble to do laundry and get a shower before it goes out again. We give up on trying to get a rental car (drive to back to Salt Pond to grocery shop) and decide to eat out to conserve our provisions (slightly schewed logic, but OK).  The Captain gets the spinnaker out to rerun lines. Our dock neighbor, sv Surprise departs. We hit the marina gift shop and stock up on “road trip” snacks for our overnight trip. A sportfish returns, so I head over for Shark Show, part 2.  The tide is higher and it’s actually a little frightening.  After I see a mouth full of teeth, I head back to the boat.  Early to bed. It’s chilly even with the hatches closed and we snuggle under a blanket.

The Atlantic side.  Note the white caps that develop as the waves come over the reef.

Visit beautiful Rum Cay!

Courtesy of the Sumner Marina Facebook page

We sleep well and I'm up by 5:45 am, in time to make coffee and crank up the Chris Parker weather broadcast. However, Amelia has other plans--she peed on the galley floor (yes, I know "she's mad at me."). And our portable SSB radio is acting up. Luckily, the Captain is up early--"where's the coffee?" {glare}. I'm not off to a good start. The forecast is still holding, so the main and anchor are up by 7:45 am dropping, in behind Kelly Nicole for our sail to Rum. We're on a broad reach for 4 miles down Conception and then I cut the corner to lay a line for Rum. 13 miles of open water ahead of us. It's fun to see a set of sails out front of us all day. Halfway, we hear a mayday. After several calls, no one responds so we hail them. They are a sportfish on the reef N of Conception. Can we relay? (Kelly Nicole can only hear our side) We eventually reach a boat still anchored (everyone was up on the beach) at Conception while Kelly Nicole calls the Coast Guard on the phone. As we near Rum, I have internet so I email, Tweet, & send a Facebook message to Hawks Nest Marina (never even got a thank your or response by the way). Finally we hear a relay that they floated off.  "Never mind."  

Enlarge to see the bridle coming off the bow...

As we make the turn south of Rum for the anchorage in the south harbour, we still have 6 miles to go. At first glance, there doesn't appear to be any boats in the harbor. We follow the Garmin line in, then turned 016 (per Bruce Van Sant--following along with the book is fun!) on the house at the peak of Cotton Field point (light inop, but it's the highest point).  NOW we can see some masts!  We work our way around to south of the mail dock (still damaged from the storm) with one person on the bow, dodging the dark spots (big elkhorn coral).  "Drive it up on the beach" (actually right next to a monohull) and drop anchor in 7.2 high tide. The Captain finds a nut from the roller furler on the trampoline--"how is that still there?"  The Captain deploys a swell anchor because Kelly Nicole is doing it and Bruce Van Sant said so. (Yes, I know we're a catamaran but it does seem to help.)  We're sitting between the waves and wind so the motion is less. This makes our rigging hum & the wind doesn't come straight in the hatches (because we're not facing into the wind) but it will do. A sailboat hailed the marina but the response is garbled.  We're up to eight boats in the anchorage by sunset. 

Chris Parker's afternoon weather forecast:  "Sun7 onward into week of Mon8 may be a REALLY GOOD E-BOUND SAILING OPPORTUNITY for vessels from Bahamas to E Caribbean."  That's us!  Put us in coach. We're ready to play!  We decide to request a custom forecast for our next big hop. 

Stats:  total time 5:15, avg speed 4.7 kts, total mileage 

Government dock unusable. except for wading out do dinghies

Day 2:  We head into town today to meet the people rebuilding Rum Cay. The government dock is still unusable (the mailboat comes down to the mouth of the marina) but we are able to tie the dinghy to a piling just off the beach. We walk up to the road and are pointed towards Kay's restaurant and store. Kay is struggling to reopen and she has some basics. She shows us the water marks and what used to be the dining room. We continue down the road to the marina. We meet Ben, a retired ferry/cargo Captain and Mike, a sailor who's boat survived the hurricane. They describe the legal battle around the marina and show us some of the damage. The view from the marina entrance back out into the bay is stunning. They point us back towards town to meet Delores. She is 84 and was born on the island. A former teacher and the island matriarch, we sign her guest book and purchase her book, "Rum Cay, My Home". We walk toward the BTC tower where we can receive free internet (and is also doubling as the school during the day). Ben catches up with us and hands over the two biggest fillets of Mahi and Wahoo I have ever seen. George's Restaurant wasn't open yet, so we return to the boat for lunch. 

Delores

Our anchorage is down to a mere 3 boats. It's a gusty afternoon so naps ensue.  The Captain begins "working on boats in exotic places".  The monohull next to us leaves. Oh, shit!

Cruisers and locals and Kaye's Bar

Day 3:  We get our Chris Parker custom forecast and head into Port Nelson for a "routing" pow-wow (bar on terra firma). We arrive at Kaye's and are quickly joined by 4 local young men (two from the front of the book) and they quickly absorb us into their group. When I turn around, the crowd has swelled to include more locals and the cruisers from the 3 new arrivals. In the end, there was about 5 min total of routing talk--"7:30 to Mayaguana?"

Kelly Nicole (with a slight "lean")

I was a little nervous as we set off for Rum.  We're getting farther away from the crowded anchorages/grocery stores/fuel which is good and bad. Our guidebooks tell us that Rum Cay may be the second island visited by Christopher Columbus is 1492. It was later famous for its salt pond production, pineapples and sisal. Currently, it's a popular jumping off point for vessels headed southbound from the Bahamas to the Caribbean. It's is a small island (30 square miles) with less than 100 inhabitants that currently relies on the tourism industry--cruisers like us and fishermen that fly in. They took a direct hit from Hurricane Joaquin in Oct 2015 and the whole island was underwater at one point, killing most of the vegetation.  I was unable to confirm anything or anyone was here until I received an email from a gentleman trying to transport fruit trees to his former Kindergarten teacher. He gave us her name and told us essential services were back on, but he couldn't reach her by phone.   Sumner Point Marina provides all-around protection but was under new ownership when the hurricane hit. Their website was down and the last Active Captain review was from April 2014. 

We had our best Bahamian experience in Rum Cay. The people are amazing. They are hardy, God-fearing people living very close to the land (and sea). One gentleman we got to know at Kaye's Bar was a pastry chef (from Oceanside?) who engaged us in a soft-spoken philosophical and religious discussion about FOOD!  You see, my one friend is vegetarian. For a society that relies on fish for food, this is interesting to them. "Would you eat a fish?  If there was nothing else to eat?"  If I had to, but I don't have to. "But it was created by God."  "What about a cow?"  "They are wild on the island."  Used to this, she wiggled out, then I was up. "I can't have wheat?"   (How did he know that?).  "But it is created by God, so why?"  This led to discussions of genetically modified wheat, grown to be bug resistant and the more pure form of seminola from Italy--all things he was familiar with.  "So when man attempts to change what God created, that is where we have a problem."  Wow.  As we parted ways, he was excited about trying to make conch fritters out of corn flour. 

Another local stripped down to his underwear to retrieve a fellow cruisers dinghy that floated off the beach. 

As we departed they encouraged us to stay. "It's Rum Days at the end of the month and we're having a Super Bowl party on Sunday."

Going NE to go south...

Headed toward the south cut.  Can you see JR's house?

Working our way NE to go south...

Huh? We're hoping to sail as much as possible as we make our way south. We really don't have the fuel capacity to do it motoring. SO we work our way NE on short hops, to give us a better angle on the prevailing winds down to Turks & Caicos. Here we go...

Salt Pond, Long Island:  The mainsail and anchor are up by 6:45 am with rain showers behind us to the west. We wave to Puffin and Encore as we motor down the harbor in calm winds (JR's house on Man of War Cay clearly silhouetted in the sunrise; Thornless). We pass through some new channel markers that denote a break in the reef. They were destroyed by Joaquin and just replaced by our fellow cruisers. Thanks guys!  (We skipped reanchoring closer to the south cut because of gusty winds the day before, but it's flat calm as we head toward the south cut.). The genoa is unfurled and we see two masts ahead of us exiting the south cut. I attempt to hand the helm over to The Captain. I figure I'm way ahead on the "cut" count, but he says "you always do morning shift" and disappears down below to make his breakfast. It's a relatively "long" but wide cut, with coral heads in a long zig zag.  It has a minor swell this morning.  We round the corner southbound with minimal sail trim required and enter the Exumas Sound/Atlantic. The water depth is quickly 65 ft of calm water and the fishing line is deployed.

Sails are UP!

Thornless says it is a 120 heading down Great Exuma to White Cay. Our chartplotter has us on a 128 course-over-ground with an island clearly in sight for visual pilotage (it turns out to be Hog Cay instead of White which is very low lying). Both engines are off and we are doing 7 kts on a close/beam reach with 12-14 kts of wind. We cross the Tropic of Cancer (N 23.26.14)!  The area bounded by the Tropic of Cancer on the north and Tropic of Capricorn on the south is known as the "tropics." (This area doesn't experience seasons because the sun is always high in the sky.  The solar panels are doing the happy dance). The water gradually changes from the dark purple of 65 ft to dark blue at 45 ft, turquoise as we cross over 45 ft and at 20 ft, The Captain can see the bottom through the light turquoise Bahama waters. We are VPR (visual piloting rules) as we reenter the 11 ft "banks" and the wind drops to 10 kts on a close reach sailing at  5.5 kts.  The high tide has "followed us" (high tide in Georgetown is (Nassau + 20 and Salt Pond is Nassau + 2:30) and we don't see any coral heads that require deviating. We make the turn for the 18 nm from Great Exuma to Long Island. Instead of making the turn down to Salt, we maintain our heading east and continue across to Long, gradually working our way south down the coast as the wind clocks south. We round the point with the sails still up (Yep, Agape spotted us entering the harbor from town). As we select our spot at the end of the line and drop anchor, we receive a text with directions to the dinghy dock and nearest pub.  The perfect end to the perfect day!

Stats:  Total time 6:59, avg speed 5.4 kts, total mileage 37.9. Sailed main & full genoa for 1/2. Motor-sailed one-engine for half. 

"Foreign Extra"!

After a quick catch up with Kelly Nicole, the conversation turns to routing. A small percentage of cruisers make the crossing from Georgetown to Long Island. For us, it's the start of repositioning for the trip farther south down the Caribbean chain. The long term goal is to be in Trinidad by July 15th (insurance company's hurricane deadline). The midterm goal is the Virgin Islands. The short term goal is Dominican Republic.  Again, we're told the weather has been "weird" this year--everything from mild trade winds, choppy on the banks and fronts making it farther south and more often than normal (a local in Black Point described it as a summer weather pattern). This makes you want to throw the guidebooks overboard!  So we spend hours studying forecasts and possible reroutes gleaned from drunk cruisers at the bar.  The end result will probably be passing up some cool places like Conception & Samana, but we can't risk getting caught in these unprotected anchorages by the short weather windows. 

Long Island has more settlements than any of the Bahamian islands.  It also has a distinct foreign influence, apparent by the multitude of accents at the bar and wide selection at the grocery store.

On October 1, 2015 the southern islands of the Bahamas were hit by Hurricane Joaquin, a cat 4 storm with maximum wind gusts of 155 mph followed by flooding. Southern Long, Rum, Crooked, Acklins and San Salvador took a direct hit and were devastated. The cargo ship El Faro, sunk 35 nm off of Crooked. Many cruisers departed Florida with extra supplies to donate and there are daily volunteer work crews to help clean up. 

Long Island is also the home of Dean's Blue Hole. According to Wikipedia, Dean's Blue Hole is the world's deepest known salt water blue hole with an entrance below the sea level and is 666 ft deep (The maximum depth of most other known blue holes is 360 ft). Although scientists still debate how blue holes form, most geologists think that it formed due to underwater erosion; a combination of dissolving limestone and a chemical reaction that happens when fresh water and salt water meet.

What is a blue hole?  a term for water-filled cavern or sinkhole with the entrance below the water level. They are also known for their abundance of fish.  It has been the site of the free diving championships and a YouTube video.

What is free diving?  Diving without oxygen tanks to depths of 300 ft, while holding your breath for approximately 3 minutes. Why?  No decompression required. Why?  I recommend the book Free, by James Nestor. The locals discouraged our friends from snorkelling here, and a snippet from the internet hints at why--they think it is evil, possibly created by the devil.  http://www.cbsnews.com/news/exploring-the-depths-of-deans-blue-hole/

A picture of Dean's Blue Hole:  http://www.bahamas.com/vendor/deans-blue-hole#zoom=14&lat=23.26331&lon=-74.98065&layers=T0B00

Salt Pond Day 2:  It's a little rolly as the wind switches through south (our anchorage is exposed to the south. At midnight I come out and sit in the salon, then lay down. It's more comfortable so I retrieve my pillow and curl up. The cat notices my presence with a meow and later Husband comes to check on me. At some point we swung through west and I sleep past sunrise. It's lazy day on the boat. No WAY we're going to the dinghy dock in this. After lunch the winds slowly clock north and we're tucked in nicely. I start to consider checking out the store when I get a text. "Happy hour.  Same place.  Magnolia leaving."  Dang it!  We decide on visiting the grocery store and eating early before everyone arrives so off we go. We're the first dinghy at the dock, so we make the executive decision to use the other side and even though the tide is higher, is rollier because we're farther across the bay from the north wind. I'm having second thoughts (derecho flash backs), but we continue on to the store. Just as I had been advised, the selection is excellent and the prices are reasonable--$4.97 for a small jar of peanut butter (we consider less than double a good deal). We are at Sou side Bar & Grill by 4:00 pm (food takes a long time here) ordering the special of chicken curry & ribs (it still took more than 30 min). Kelly Nicole appears and we're off and running.  Magnolia arrives and joins us. They are Kelly Nicole's sister ship and happy hour is in their honor since they are headed back north.  When we depart, the water has calmed down, but it's dark. Several new boats have arrived while we've been in town and we weave our way back to the boat.  A monohull has anchored close to us and stays up in the cockpit well past 9. We can hear their conversation in our berth. 

Salt Pond, Long Island sunrise

Salt Pond Day 3:  The water is flat calm with a slight breeze through the hatch. After a restless night last night, I sleep GREAT!  I attempt to rollover at 6:30 am, but the brilliant oranges of the sunrise pull me out on deck.  By 9:00 am, The Captain has fuel cans in the dinghy and we're headed for the government dock to meet the fuel truck.  He gives The Captain a ride to the gas station down the street while I walk the other direction towards the Farmer's Market and the grocery store. He brings the dinghy back to the dinghy dock and is headed the other way towards the Marine store when I come out, so I plop down on the dock and watch the fish until Dos Libras arrives. After another quick discussion about routing, they depart for the market. We're back by lunch & tinker around the boat the rest of the afternoon. Texts start flying about weather, departure times and more routing. Charts and guidebooks are drug out again--there are infinite possibilities!  I receive an email with a contact name and the good news that "basic services are restored on Rum."  Yeah!  Pasta Marinara with the wonderful Italian Sausage from the meat market in Georgetown. 

Calabash, Long Island:  I'm up with the chickens before 6:00 am after a great night sleep (is there a bay in the Bahamas without chickens?!). Calm waters and a nice breeze through the hatch. With a big weather window, we're headed for Cala"bash" on the north end of the island.  It has a reputation as a rolly anchorage and is only protected from the east but it's a leisurely 24 mile sail (then 32 mile motor to Rum). 

Monitoring sail trim from the trampoline

We depart at 9:00 am with Kelly Nicole in the lead.  We are ghosting along at a leisurely 3.5 kts in the clear turquoise water with a blue sky overhead (the occasional threat of rain that never materializes). Our second leg of pure sailing.  The quiet bliss of no engine noise.  Texts fly as we're passed by a monohull--"are they motoring?  I hope they're motoring!"  The Captain attempts to deploy the spinnaker but our new sheets are a little short--and there a dark cloud ahead.  The Captain bought more line & lures so two trolling lines are deployed. 

Kelly Nicole enters the bay through the south entrance (Active Captain advises stray coral heads) so we continue farther north to a hole in the reef then turn in on a 90 degree heading to the "white house with the peaked roof" (just kidding, we used the Garmin--good thing, because they've built more houses on the shore!  I did neglect to confirm the flag pole & windmill so I was looking at the wrong house--my bad). It feels like we are getting more off the beaten path, but we end up anchoring off the beach of the Cape Santa Maria Resort. Open wifi!  Woo hoo!  In the interest of exploring, we go in to check out their bar. Free conch fritters, pizza and nachos. I had my first Gin with coconut water and sweet milk.  I like it!

Stats:  Total time 5:17, avg speed 4.7, total mileage 24.7 nm,  sailed 3/4, motored first 1/8 and last 1/8. 

More fishing gear...

Rum Cay/Conception Island:  We got a good nights sleep with only a minor rocking motion but I'm up by 5:00 am. It's another early morning with the main sail and anchor up by 7:30 am.  We depart through the reef off the white house with a peaked roof on a heading of 90 degrees. We thought we may motor to Rum Cay, but the winds (and the First Mate) favor Conception (we can also spend the night safely--because it is only protected from the east).  Who are we to question Bruce Van Sant?  #thornless. Sails ahead of us peel off for Cat Island.  Motor sailing, close-hauled will put us just west of Conception, so we continue northeast bound. The waves are only 1-2 ft but are confused, coming from the NE and E with only the occasional splash over the bow. It's not a great ride, but at least it's a short day. The Captain plays with different ways to run the sheets for our genoa trying to get us closer to the wind. We see Kelly Nicole's AIS attempt a turn east then turn back north and a tacking race with Tattoo behind us begins. We finally turn east and motor the last hour into the bay, with deep water, right up to the entrance reef. Captain is on a dry streak. Two trolling lines and no fish!

Anchored 250 ft off the beach in Conception.  This is the "gin clear waters" we've been hearing about!

The trimaran from downtown Georgetown is here along with 2 other boats. We work our way around coral heads and snug up to the beach. We end up only 250 ft off in a shallow spot, but a couple monohulls work their way in closer. We gave up too quickly!  Swimming to the beach is favored over the dinghy here. We have cheese and crackers for a late lunch then I jump in for a swim over to the beach and a walk as Kelly Nicole arrives. White Bird rolls in. I return as Tattoo arrives and sails onto their anchor because of engine problems. We throw the snorkel gear in the dinghy and head to a beach off point and snorkel out to the tallest reef I've seen but it's not in good health.  However, there are lots of fish including some small barracuda, a large Parrotfish and a tiny turtle.  (We're too chicken to round the corner for Van Sant's "kiddie pool"). By sunset it is 11 boats. 

Stats:  Total time 4:42, avg speed 5.2 kts, total mileage 24.5 nm (Distance over water 22.0). 3/4 motor sailed close hauled. 1/4 motor. 

Dear Diary (week 3 Georgetown)

Full Moon in the anchorage

I recall our last week in Georgetown as very boring and not worthy of a blog post. However, as I looked back at what I wrote, I decided to share it for continuity. Be patient. WE ARE PREPPING TO DEPART GEORGETOWN!

Study, study, study.

Day 15 Fri, Jan 22: The Captain walks over the hill to refill propane at BEC ($10 for 11 lb is the cheapest in town).  The winds are forecast to kick up and clock around again, so we're hunkered down. The boat count for the season is 178, down from 262 (400 at a peak). Our little anchorage swells from one to nine.  Chartbooks come out. Winds shifted south but not 20 kts yet. 

Day 16 Sat, Jan 23: The winds swung to the west overnight at less than 10. We slept like babies except for the short rain shower that meant I had rollover & close a hatch. The winds were so calm that when the Captain popped his head out, he's disoriented. "Did somebody move?"  Nope.  We both hate to think it. Should we run into town?  We'd like to be ready to jump to Long Island in the next weather window. We risk it and make it back, no worse for wear so The Captain makes a second run for water.  By noon, there is an occasional gust to 25, but the sun is out. Dinghies and multiple kayaks are in the water. Someone is snorkeling. A few boats are "shuffling". It's chat n chill west in our tiny anchorage. .(Seriously. I guess part of the appeal of Georgetown is moving anchorages with the wind, but we prefer to find a spot & stay put--our anchor is buried nicely!).  

We hear from friends that there is a good grocery store, water and fuel at Thompson Bay, Long Island. A long weather discussion ensues and I'm counting the days until we can move on. We're both getting a little testy.  Chris Parker has reported the trade winds are light for this time of year. Everyone keeps telling us how weird the weather is compared to usual. The evening email says the trend should change:  "February should bring a rapid & significant change to weather pattern...we'll continue seeing about 1 ColdFRONT every 6-7 days...but LOs will form & track farther N...and we'll see N<ENE winds behind FRONTs (instead of W<N)...and more days with ENE<ESE Trades and settled weather between FRONTs - a rather typical winter pattern. Sure, there will still be on average 1-2 days each week you may need to "hide", but that's better than 3-5 days/week of inclement weather we've seen for much of January."

By moon rise (it's a full moon!) the boat is gently rocking from the wind. I stay up late after a cold-brew ice coffee--until almost 9!  We've started watching Justified on DVD, then download some Elmore Leonard books. It's chilly, so I close hatches and dig out some socks to go with the flannel jammies then unroll the blanket. Cuddling tonight! 

Day 17, Jan 24:  I'm up at 4:00 am. The wind is a steady 20-25 kts and the sloshing and squeaking of the boat drags me into the cockpit to check on things. I might as well make coffee. The cat can't tell time. 4:00 am.  6:00 am. Mom is up. Let's eat!

We passed the Shedd Aquarium (Chicago) rv Coral Reef II which was docked downtown the other day. A quick google revealed 1) I haven't found a single conch salad since we've arrived, apparently because the Queen Conch population is near collapse from overfishing 2). Part of the reason for near extinction of the lizards is junk food from the tourists!  Don't feed the lizards!  Learn more here: http://www.sheddaquarium.org/Conservation--Research/Field-Research/Around-the-Globe/Studying-Iguanas-in-the-Bahamas/

Another beautiful sunrise in Georgetown, S of Goat Cay

Day 18, Jan 25:  Freedom!  The winds let up. Another morning discussion about weather and the First Mate convinces the Captain to anchor downtown for at least one day to provision up. With the First Mate at the helm (because raising and lowering the anchor is "exhausting"), we cruise down the Georgetown shore instead of going back out to the channel. We scoot over to the southern side of Kidd Cove trying to avoid the crowds & crazy dinghy traffic. By the time we hit the dinghy dock, there is a LONG line for water. I hop off and head to the grocery store while The Captain waits in line, then runs it back out to the boat.  Since Peace and Plenty provides free wifi, we go for lunch on their patio. We chat with some Canadians at the next table, who saw our boat pass by from their patio this morning.  A quick stop at the the liquor store for more coconut rum and Kalik.  "Bottles or cans?"  "You have cans?!"  We almost can't extracate ourselves from the dinghy dock.

Now who would expect a line for water on Monday morning after a forecast 3-day blow?

Returning to the boat, the harbor is in full "shuffle" mode.  One neighbor has left and another has arrived.  The wind has also shifted west, then gone calm, so our anchor chain has a loop in it and we've passed over the anchor!  We are at low tide and the depth sounder reads 5.3, so I jump in for a quick snorkel. It's a little chilly, but I check on our anchor and the abandoned mooring lying on the bottom next to us.  Anxious for some exercise I request the scraper. I get 3/4 of the boat done including between the hulls and lower than I can usually reach.  I had tossed the flippers back on deck because the water is so shallow, I can almost stand and walk with my snorkel--so I didn't get the keels. I rinse off and wash my hair on the stern steps.  The Captain has cut open our second coconut, so I'm greeted with a rum punch & coconut meat.

Where is the world is our anchor?  Not over there!

3 more days. 

Day 19 Jan 26:  Grocery run. Bank. Liquor store. 

You never know who you'll be anchored next to (note the roller furling sails & the dolphin!)

Day 20 Jan 27:  Laundry run.  Grocery.  Red Boone.  Chat with Dos Libras about their southbound plans. 

After 20 days, it's time to leave Georgetown. I felt a little claustrophobic as soon as we pulled into the harbor. Chat n chill anchorage still makes me cringe. Yes, it's nice to have access to a 2 groceries and a meat market, free water, two laundromats, a vet, unlimited wifi and numerous anchoring options. We've met a lot of nice people. You can't walk from the dinghy dock to Red Boone without running into old friends or meeting new ones. We haven't fully covered all the activities here--we never even stepped foot into Chat n Chill. (Don't tell anyone!). However, we are ready to be out on the water exploring somewhere new. Yes, it's a five mile stretch down the harbor that can justify a motor sail. Yes, there are anchorages we haven't tried. Plenty of trails & restaurants to keep us busy. However, the lure of the Turks & Dominican pulls us forward. We bought a few more guidebooks (thank you sv Shoestring).  We sold our East Coast charts and guidebooks (good luck sv Puffin).  We're talking through all the stops. It's sad to leave our friends, but many are starting to plan their trips back north.

We have a visitor!

Anchored "South of Goat Cay" in front of Augusta Bay Resort

Georgetown Day 9, our guest arrives (Sat Jan 16):  A girlfriend is coming to visit! A girlfriend is coming to visit! Luckily, spring cleaning on our tiny home only takes 2 hours! One of many chores is replacing our flag that took a hit in the derecho/pre-Hurricane Alex. We brought a spare...  We reposition the 7 miles back up the harbor to "South of Goat Cay anchorage" which is just outside my friend's hotel. We dinghy in to bring her to the boat for a cold Kalik followed by a tour and 20 questions.  We saw a turtle in the beam of our flashlight while taking her back in. No extra charge!

Tidying up the boat--replacing our US flag

Stats:  total time 1:30, avg speed 4.7 kts, total mileage 7.0 nm, motored.

A hike in the Bahamas--lots of limestone rocks & sand

Top of Monument Hill overlooking one of the many anchorages

"And you won't believe what happened next..."

The surprise-wave pic.  Our first good pic together!  Yeah!

Guest day 1 (day 10 Jan 17) :  We warned her. "You're going to get wet, a lot. Did we tell you you are going to get wet?"  We started the day with a 9:00 am pick up at her hotel dock, followed by a dinghy ride across the harbor to Monument Beach for a hike. After scrambling up limestone and sand trails (we are not in Missouri!), we made it to the top then headed down to the beach on the Atlantic side. We stopped to chat with several groups of fellow, friendly cruisers then headed back to the boat for a snorkel. What followed was deemed by The Captain, "the wettest dinghy ride yet" (which I believe was previously held by Titusville, FL). She was a good sport!  "We need swim goggles."  After drying off, we decided to walk to the grocery store for dinner. Cruiser-brain forgot it was Sunday afternoon (store closed!), so we ended up at the bar next door.  After rum punches and homemade sweet potato fries, she began playing "is that a tourist or cruiser?" with the bartender until The Captain arrived to take us home. She picked up a new mantra from the Captain--"let it go."  Veggie stir-fry and rum punches in the cockpit. Early evening anchoring entertainment (2 more boats arrived). Sunset on the trampoline.

She snapped a pic of me at home on our boat--cooking in the galley!  lol

Odin's Bahamian Rum Punch

The upgraded bridle--5/8" 3-strand nylon.  Upgraded from 7500 lbs to 12,200 lbs!

Making Rum Punches like a local

Guest Day 2 (day 11 Jan 18):  It was an overcast, dreary day so we ended up in town.  We spent some time browsing the wide selection at Top II Bottom--"our WalMart" then swung theough the liquor store on the way to the market. MONTHS ago, our friends from Diva Di had shared a recipe:  "If you like Pina Coladas, you can remove the fat by just using a good coconut rum (we like Cruzan) and a regular rum in any proportion that you enjoy."  (Duane, I'm hoping there is supposed to be juice in there somewhere!)

After some careful "research" at local drinking establishments, we FINALLY purchased some Ole Nassau Coconut Rum.  The juice/mixer of choice on Odin is grapefruit juice, but we've been also been dabbling with pineapple & guava. 

Here's the trick:  A can of Bluebird juice is only 46 oz. A normal juice bottle/carafe is 60 oz. After transferring the canned juice into a carafe, The Captain said, "just pour the other juice in with it."  This is what they do it at local bars. When you order a drink, they pick up a mystery jug and pour, adding your rum of choice to the glass. Hmmmmmm.

Another guest pic of The Boat Life.  Lounging in the cockpit with my iPad & a rum punch, while The Captain scatters tools about...

So arriving back at the boat, we mixed a can of grapefruit juice & a can of coconut-pineapple juice then added coconut rum.  Our guest snatched the first glass and said, "THAT'S IT!"  I neglected to do my signature "skinny" version the first round, but the second round was half club soda, 1/2 fruit juice, shot of coconut rum. "Yep, I like the fizzy."  I don't remember the recipe we used on the third round. 

Summary:  a can of Redbird juice of your choice, a small can of Jumex juice of your choice, (Ole Nassau) coconut rum.

Yep, you can see Odin from her balcony!

Ahhhhh!  The pool is shaped like a boat :-)

Guest 3 (day 12 Jan 19):  It was a cold and windy day, so I spent it hanging out at my friend's hotel.  I used to be her IT person, so we sat on the balcony, telling stories and downloading apps :-)

The Captain "cracking" our first coconut. He keeps forgetting to buy a machete.

Yum!

Our guest digging for coconut meat.

Guest 4 (day 13 Jan 20):  The sun came out so we decide to walk to the north end of Georgetown. ("Bring your backpack"). Our Guest has taken the quest for our first coconut seriously, and stops to shake all the fallen ones--tucking potential keepers in the bushes for the walk back. We find the pharmacy but continue on to the elusive "meat market" to discover a wonderful little store, staffed by expats with fresh limes, gf pasta, and yes, wonderful-looking MEAT! (We were bordering on being vegetarians. Close one!). A quick stop at the pharmacy on the way back yields more juice and some Stugeron (seasickness medication you can't buy in the States), but the Captain buys a different brand of coconut rum (Don't you read the blog?!). We collect our coconuts and retire to the boat for grilled burgers with bean salad and rum punch.  With a full belly, The Captain decides he wanted to re-anchor closer in, "so we might as well take a sail down the harbor."  A quick scramble has me at the helm and our Guest is sent up to the bow to learn more about anchoring than I know ("This is the same button as the head."  Lol. She was taking video and he didn't know!). We had a leisurely 1:20 sail down the harbor including a tour of Stocking Island anchorages and the game of "we were anchored next to them in....."  OK, that was probably boring for her, but it's like playing Memory for us.  Keeps us sharp ;-)

  Cruiser:  "Grab your backpack.  Let's run errands."  To our guest:  "Want to walk to town?"  lol

Guest departs (day 14 Jan 21):  The winds are forecast to kick up this afternoon, so The Captain ran into town to pick up a much anticipated package (Coast Guard registration renewal, sailcloth tote bags, tankini, sunblock) and to get water.  On the way out of Lake Victoria, The Captain took a wave "that was over my head" and swamped the dinghy!  He arrives back at the boat looking like a wet dog.  The anchorage is getting rough.  Our guest is leaving today, so after much deliberation we decide to do a dry run to the vet (Mama needs a valium to take the kitty in the dinghy in this!).  After confirming the location and our appointment (they kindly give me her prescription to take with me without paying), we head back to the hotel to have lunch with our guest.  She takes some flat-rate mail for our friends and we say goodbye ("that's your cab driver having a beer at the bar").  We dinghy back out and retrieve Amelia the Cat.  The ride in won't be too bad, but I strap her across my body and bring a trash bag for the return trip. Dr. Dean and his assistant turn out to be excellent. He was calm and gentle with our baby girl, exploring a scab, offering to cut her "old lady nails" and discussing the anti-inflammatory shot we requested.  They couldn't believe she was 18!  The ride home in the dinghy was uneventful (even the vet asked if we had a trash bag to cover her carrier), and after a shot of rum, Amelia and I crashed on the couch for a nap. Let it rain, let it rain!