This post is Part 1 of 8 that tell the story of our return from the Bahamas. It was quite an odyssey. I will be posting the segments daily for a while, so come back for the next installment.
There is a saying that the cruising life is an opportunity to work on your boat in exotic places. We have learned the truth of this statement, but sometimes, an exotic location is not the right place to initiate repairs. We found ourselves in exactly that situation, and this blog is the story of how we dealt with it.
If a friend who owned a sailboat with all the bells and whistles said to you, “I think I will turn off everything and sail 400 miles without ever using my engine or anything else that needs electricity,” what would you think? No engine. No electronics. No auto-pilot. No refrigeration. Nothing that used electricity except bilge pump, sump pump and navigation lights. Radio off unless needed for an outbound call. What would you think? You might think this person is crazy.
We recently completed just such a trip, and it was not about mental illness. It was about necessity. Our engine would not work. Our generator would not work. We were in a foreign country and our efforts to get repair parts shipped in had hit a brick wall. Furthermore, we had no way to assure ourselves that the parts we thought we needed would actually fix our problems. For all we knew, the new parts would only allow us to see a deeper problem. It was desperation time. Larry said to me, “Do you think we could sail this boat back to Florida without an engine?” and I said, “Well, it is a sailboat after all.”
We had owned our home sweet sailboat since July of 2000, almost ten years. We had had some lovely adventures, but we had never before undertaken to sail longer than 8 hours at a stretch, and we had never before sailed after dark. We had always been able to fall back on the engine and the auto-pilot and e-charts. The trek that lay before us would have none of those things. Here is how it came to pass.
We checked in to the Bahamas on January 18 with high anticipation of the adventure of discovery. Maybe it is true that thousands of people have made the crossing and spent the winter in the islands, and maybe it had become a ho-hum trip for some, but not for us. We might have been the first people ever to conceive of such an idea. For us every new sight was like a new discovery that nobody had ever done before. We visited the Berries, Eleuthera and the northern Exumas, going as far south as Staniel Cay. We anchored at Big Majors Spot across from Staniel Cay on the 16th day of March, and we remained there for five weeks.
Along our journey to Staniel Cay, the engine occasionally failed to start on the first try, but that behavior appeared to be mostly related to the fact that it is a relatively long run from the fuel tank to the engine. Time after time, Larry was able to trick the engine demons and get us going. After we reached Staniel Cay, we remained there happily for two or three weeks. Then we thought we would like to visit nearby Black Point Settlement. We planned to do laundry and shop for groceries and see some new sights. We called the fuel dock at the yacht club to confirm that we could get to the dock and that there was actually fuel available. We buttoned down for travel, and then Larry went up to the cockpit to start the engine. Nothing. Nothing but a feeble splat.
Been there. Done that. He began to muddle about in the engine room, but unlike previous efforts, there was no response. We settled down to give him time to trouble-shoot the problem.
He tried all the usual tricks. I waited in the cockpit for the command to push the button. Every so often Larry called out, “Push the button!” Each time the engine wheezed or groaned, but it never did start. Things looked very gloomy.
The next day he worked through all the diagnostics one more time. He concluded that the starter he had hoped would finish this year’s voyage had bowed out, exit, stage left. It was finished, over, kaput.
Internet searches at Staniel Cay require an account with Exuma Wifi at the cost of $10 for 24 hours or 200 mb, whichever comes first. Accounts for longer terms are cheaper per hour or mb, but still very costly by our standards. We bought an account for a week, knowing that there would be some back and forth conversation when he ordered parts and arranged for shipping to Staniel Cay. Rather than give you that story blow by blow, I will simply say that Larry came to despair of getting the part shipped to our location. There were too many hurdles to success in that endeavor.
The biggest hurdle was his fear that even if he somehow managed to get the parts and install them, they might not solve the problem. Even with a new starter, it was possible that the engine would not start. The problem might lie deeper than that.
Thinking along that line, we quickly rejected any notion of trying to locate a diesel engine mechanic in the Bahamas. We had already received numerous warnings not to look for such services in the Bahamas. It would be a miracle if we connected with someone who was actually qualified to help.
The day came that Larry said to me, “Do you think we could just sail this boat back to Florida without an engine?” and I said, “Well, it is a sailboat, isn’t it?”
We began serious planning to take the boat back to Florida where we could work with a credentialed diesel engine mechanic in a location where parts could be shipped readily.
Come back tomorrow for Part 2.
We have had some interesting experiences in the Bahamas. Winds and currents do strange things sometimes. We have seen some spectacular sights at Warderick Wells, Cambridge Cay and Big Majors Spot.
When we arrived in the mooring area at Cambridge Cay, the winds were about 10 or 12 knots, much more subdued than in the previous dozen days, so it was pretty easy to pick up our mooring. We noticed right away that both the mooring and its pennant were heavily marked with blue paint that matches our bottom paint. We knew exactly how that happened. It is all about winds and currents.
Before we came to the Bahamas we read about the navigation and anchoring challenges here. Winds and currents here have different characteristics than we were accustomed to in Chesapeake Bay. In the descriptions of many Bahamas anchorages, there are notes about extreme currents and the recommendation to deploy two anchors. That comment sounds relatively simple, but the solutions are not simple at all. The problems associated with the currents and winds lead many, many boaters to prefer moorings or marinas to the hazards associated with anchoring. Those hazards lead to issues with the anchor rode similar to the mooring problems that produced the markings we saw on our mooring ball and pennant at Cambridge Cay.
The differences between high and low tide in the Bahamas will normally be somewhere between 2 and 3 feet. To those of us who have cruised in New England, that difference sounds small. In Maine, tides of 12 feet are not uncommon, and the intrepid cruisers who venture as far east as West Quoddy Point will learn to deal with tides at or near 20 feet. Tales of the tides in Bay of Fundy will give anyone pause. We have cruised as far east as Schoodic Point in Maine, and we found that we could adjust easily to the greater tidal range. It was a simple matter to calculate the greater scope required, but we found no other significant challenge associated with the tides in Maine.
The lesser range of the Bahamas tides fools the novice cruiser at first. We saw the chart markings that said “strong current,” but we had no idea what that actually meant. We were prepared for the current to be strong, but we did not realize how it would affect us until we experienced it.
How did that mooring and pennant come to be so severely marked with bottom paint?
When we picked up our mooring at Warderick Wells, it must have been slack tide, although at the time we were not sensitive to tidal timings as we have become in the days since. Larry eased up to the mooring, I picked it up, we pulled the eye of the pennant over our forward cleat, and we were secure. As Larry always does, he rigged lines that basically create a harness through the eye of the pennant around the bow of the boat. Then we settled in.
I don’t remember noticing when the flood tide current began to pick up, although I could hear the water rippling past our hull. However, after I went up on deck, I observed that the bow of the boat had ridden up past the mooring ball. Later, I heard the ball banging against the hull from time to time. As the days passed and the fronts passed, I saw that ball move all over the place, or rather, I observed that we moved relative to the ball. The ball sometimes slid under the boat and popped up on the other side.
That’s not all. After the first front passed, I saw that the lines of the harness were twisted twice around the pennant. After a second front passed, the twists were completely undone. And then there was the dinghy. After the second front passed, I discovered that our dinghy painter had been tied in a tight knot by the wind. I didn’t think it was even possible for that to happen. It makes me think back to a time that I thought we had made some mistake in tying up our dinghy. We woke up after a front had passed in the night to discover that the dinghy was attached to the boat by only one tie. We always tie it up twice with quite a bit of line between the ties, but on that occasion the tie nearest the dinghy was undone by the wind. After seeing that the wind could create a knot last week, I am prepared to believe that it could untie one just as easily.
The way our boat moves with tides and currents is due to the keel. We have a full keel, and as we watched the other boats moored at Warderick Wells, we could easily discern which ones had full keels. They moved with the mooring the same way we did. When we discovered that we had run up on the pennant, we could look around and see at least a half dozen other boats doing the same thing. A full keel is much more influenced by the currents than the winds, and that behavior prevails despite really strong winds. If we had the aft cockpit curtains open, it was not uncommon for us to have winds blowing in the aft of the cockpit, because the current was forcing our keel to point opposite to the wind. The moorings expect the boat to be moved by the wind, and when we moved with the current opposite to the wind, we ran up on the pennant and received strong breezes through the aft opening to the cockpit.
So we know exactly how our mooring and pennant at Cambridge Cay came to be more blue than white. As the keel is pushed by current in the opposite direction of the wind, the keel rubs against the pennant and the ball, leaving behind a residue of blue bottom paint.
We have learned to be very attentive to the tides here. We faithfully write down the times for tides in Nassau every day. The tides in any given location may be before or after the Nassau tides, but a day of observation will give you the relationship. We assume that the tides are within an hour of Nassau for rough planning. We need that timing because the tidal currents are so strong. They are often as much as 4 knots, and in many places a speed of 6 knots will be common. Many anchorages are affected so dramatically that boats must deploy two anchors if anybody is to be able to sleep at night.
Here is the rule: Tides flood toward the banks and ebb away from the banks. I think that the problem must originate in the vast expanses of the banks coupled with the way the bottom drops dramatically elsewhere. The east side of Eleuthera Island, for example, faces the Atlantic with a rocky shore and huge coral outcroppings. The rocks extend a short distance toward the ocean, and then there is nothing. The depth goes from 100 feet to 1000 feet almost in the blink of an eye. On the western side of the island, in the bight between Current Island and Powell Point, is a huge bank. That bank extends several miles from the island toward Exuma Sound, but at Powell Point, the bottom drops out again. I speculate that the difference between the shallow banks and the deep channels is at the root of the strong tidal currents.
Whatever the reason, they are not to be trifled with. Prudent mariners respect their power. A current of just 4 knots coupled with winds over 20 knots, or colliding with winds over 20 knots, can create a hazard that can push a big boat onto rocks or reefs. Everyone is advised to have a spotter in shallow water to watch for hazards, but in tight quarters, the winds and currents can fool you.
North of the anchorage on the west side of Big Major Spot is a tiny cut that separates Big Major from Fowl Cay, a Sandals property. This little cut is probably lest than 50 feet across, and it must be 15 feet deep. On the south side, the water is quite deep in a protected pool. On the north side, the channel through the cut is bounded on the east by a very shallow bank that extends along the northern shore of Big Majors. It is a microcosm that dramatically displays the big challenge across the Bahamas.
A few days ago Larry and I decided to circumnavigate Big Majors Spot. We headed north toward this tiny cut. As we approached, it was flood tide. Water was rushing through this cut at a pace so furious that the incoming water could hardly be contained. On one side whirlpools swirled and dipped noticeably in the center of circulation. On another side a confluence of opposing currents created raging cascades. We picked up speed and hurried through, hoping not to be shoved backward. On the north side I looked eastward across the shallow banks. There I saw water rushing furiously across the bank downhill toward the deep water of the cut. There was almost a waterfall into the channel.
Today we tried to navigate that cut in the opposite direction. We should have been prepared, but even our prior experience during a flood tide was no preparation for today’s ebb. The last time the tidal ranges were in a more normal range – a difference between 2 and 3 feet between high and low tide. Today the low low tide was more than 4 feet lower than the high high tide. We approached from the north during the second hour of ebb. It was a roaring torrent, and despite gunning the outboard to its highest possible speed, we were pushed off course. The only way to avoid being shoved against the rocks was to turn around and let the water take us back where we came from.
We saw some other frightful, but terrifyingly fascinating sights on this trip. As we traversed the channel between Big Major and Little Major, we could see through the cuts both to the north and south of Little Major. It was enough to take your breath away. We have heard warnings not to attempt these cuts on an ebb with wind or wave from the east, but until you see it, you don’t know. In this case, a superhigh tide was ebbing at a ferocious pace into Exuma Sound against a long period northeast swell of about 8 feet. We looked through those cuts and saw huge waves break across the entrance. Some roared against the rocks surrounding the cuts creating huge breaking waves between the rocks. Under no circumstances would I have attempted to go in or out those cuts under these circumstances.
We happened to have another couple with us today as we contemplated how we would deal with the fact that we could not navigate our tiny cut, the one obstacle that separated us from our boats safe in the anchorage on the other side of the cut. Our new friend Irina looked at me and smiled, saying, “C’est l’aventure!” That’s what cruising is: an adventure. You plan with all your intellect, and you deal with what happens anyway. Sometimes you get what you don’t want, but you get through somehow. It is all about adventure!
You probably wondered what is going on these days. It has been a while since I posted anything. The last you heard we were still riding out cold fronts at Cambridge Cay. We have since moved on to Big Majors Spot. I don’t know why they call it “Spot” instead of “Cay” but that is the name on the chart.
We are anchored near Staniel Cay. Staniel is one of the hot spots for cruisers in the Bahamas. With a population probably less than 300, it still provides a lot of services, and it has an airport! With regularly scheduled flights! We hear and see a lot of airplanes, all of them very small, but quite busy here. When the wind is from the east, they zoom directly over our anchorage before making the turn for final approach, and sometimes they zoom frightfully low, barely above the top of the mast. A few mornings back, two of them were apparently racing for the landing strip and they zoomed overhead wingtip to wingtip in a terrifying formation reminiscent of the Blue Angels. At the last possible moment, one of them turned sharply away as the other turned into the access path. All this at a height that appeared to be mere inches above the masthead. Whew!
Air freight is one way people on the island receive goods. It is also the way cruisers receive goods. We needed our snail mail after we arrived, because it contains tax documents we need, and air freight enabled us to receive it only six days after we requested it! Subsequently we needed an engine part, and it, too, will arrive by air freight.
If not for air freight, the only other option would be the Bahamas Mail Boat. Air freight takes six days. Bahamas mail takes ?????????
The mail boats are the lifeline for the islands. They all start their journeys in Nassau, the capital, the largest city, and the largest port (I might be wrong. Freeport might be bigger.). They travel throughout the island carrying mail, of course, but they also carry groceries, construction materials, passengers and pretty much anything someone needs to deliver anywhere in the islands. People know the “schedule” of the mailboats very well, and in the Bahamas, when anyone says, “Has the boat arrived?” nobody answers, “What boat?” They all know what boat. It is the mail boat. In every part of the Bahamas, there is a large community of boats – sailboats, motor yachts, fishing vessels and so forth. But when anyone in any part of the Bahamas says, “the boat” everyone knows that the boat in question is the mail boat.
We arrived at Big Majors anchorage on a Tuesday. It had been almost a month since I set foot in a grocery store, and you can well imagine that our supply of fresh fruits and vegetables was about gone. We still had apples and oranges, which keep almost forever. We still had potatoes, onions, carrots and cabbage. However, things like celery, peppers, tomatoes and so forth were long gone.
As soon as the anchor was set, we jumped into the dinghy and headed for the grocery store. On Staniel Cay there are three grocery stores – the Pink Pearl, the Blue Palm, and Isles General, where the proprietor says, “We have what you need to get you where you are going.” We chose to go to Isles General, because it is right on the water.
We arrived at the location and found a steep beach in front where we could land the dinghy. A rope about fifty feet long strung between two concrete blocks well above high tide line provided a place to tie our painter to keep the dinghy from floating away. This service replaces the parking lots needed by suburban supermarkets.
The store itself is about as large as the master bedroom plus walk-in closet in many suburban homes. Or maybe not that large. It is dimly lit. The largest part of the store contains an assortment of supplies and odds and ends. Band-aids, school notebooks, transmission fluid, and etcetera. The smaller space (this is the walk-in closet) contains food. Or it contains food sometimes.
We found very little in the way of fresh produce, which was our real objective. The proprietor, Vivien, told us we could expect better selections after “the boat” came the next day. We talked with her at length about this situation, because it was all new to us, although we had some idea about it from listening to radio traffic. She told us the boat was expected the next morning, and she would have her goods on the shelves before noon. We made our plan to stop by again the next afternoon, about 1:30 when she re-opened the store after her lunch break 12:00 – 1:30PM.
The next morning we tuned in as always on VHF channel 12 to hear the weather report from Blue Yonder. We get weather daily from Chris Parker on SSB 4045 upper at 6:30AM, from the Bahamas Air and Rescue Service Association (BASRA) on SSB 4003 upper at 7:00AM, from Waterways Radio Club on SSB at 7268 lower at 7:45AM (if I don’t forget) and from Blue Yonder on VHF 12 at 8:00AM, or thereabouts. Radio reception is full of challenges, and on any given day we may be unable to hear one or more of the sources. Each has its own unique information. We try to glue it all together and make a guess at what our day will be like. The weather from Blue Yonder uniquely includes the buoy reports from near Staniel Cay, which is perfect for us right now.
Blue Yonder also keeps us informed about The Boat. That morning, the first thing she said was, “Has anyone seen the boat yet?” Despite the fact that this location hosts probably 50 boats, nobody asked “What boat?” Unfortunately, nobody had seen “the boat” and it was a subject of radio chatter throughout the day. We heard people calling the Captain C (I am guessing at the spelling) all through the day, but the captain did not answer. We heard people reporting that it had been seen here and there. Finally, the next morning, Thursday, we saw “the boat” entering the channel to the government dock. At last!
Needless to say, we did not go to the grocery store on Wednesday. It would have been pointless. We waited until afternoon on Thursday.
When we arrived at the store, it was humming. The dinghy beach was full of dinghies, although there was still room for ours. The store was full of people. As we arrived, a crew from a nearby yacht club came in with a huge cooler to collect their special order. People were buzzing about excitedly picking up tomatoes, celery, zucchini, cauliflower and other fresh items. There was meat in the meat freezer. (We have learned that in the islands, all meat is frozen. Fresh meat cannot be transported on a mail boat that wanders the islands for a week.) Our choices were chicken wings, chicken leg quarters, pork ribs, NY strip steak, and ground beef in 1-pound tubes. There were fresh eggs, butter, heavy cream and other dairy products. There was a lot of bread, but all of the “Wonder” variety. We made our selections and departed happy. I bought 4 tomatoes, even though I would like to have had more. I suspected the supply was inadequate for major restocking, and I was right. We were there the next day for something else, and the tomatoes were completely gone. There were a few droopy onions, and other odds and ends, but no tomatoes.
The next week, we knew to be watching for the boat. Blue Yonder started her broadcast asking, “Has anyone seen the boat?” but nobody had. It finally arrived about 5PM. I followed good island tradition when I heard someone call Isles General on the VHF and listened in on the conversation. I learned that the store’s proprietor would be meeting the boat to get her order and would spend the evening stocking shelves. She would open the next morning at 8:00 AM.
This time we wanted to visit all the stores, plus the bakery. On Thursday morning, we dinghied over to the Staniel Cay Yacht Club and landed at their dinghy beach. The Pink store, the Blue store and the bakery are all in easy walking distance of the yacht club.
We visited the Pink Store first. This store is in a building about the size of a wide garage. The proprietor is an ancient lady who waits patiently behind the counter while customers browse. Her store is so poorly lit that we could hardly make out the labels of items on the shelves. Even after the arrival of the boat, her shelves were half empty. Many items appeared to have been there for a very long time. However, she did have fresh produce, and we bought a few things. The owner was very pleasant as we checked out and wished her a good day.
Next we went to the bakery. Baking is done in one room of a nearby house. The owner makes various kinds of bread, but on any given day the selections are few. We could buy white, whole wheat, or cinnamon raisin. We bought a loaf of whole wheat and one of the raisin loaves. The raisin bread had just come out of the oven and the aroma filled the room. After we got home we cut a piece, still warm, and it was wonderful. Yum!
On to the Blue Store. This store is larger and better lit than the Pink Store. The owner is more attentive to her customers. She came over to help me when I started looking at the meats in the freezer. Her selection of meat, produce and dry goods was the best I have seen here. I was delighted to be able to find romaine lettuce. We haven’t had lettuce for a while, and good as cabbage is, it is more appealing when interspersed with crisp green lettuce salads.
Finally we went to Isles General again. I was hoping for more tomatoes, but it was not to be. At the Pink Store and the Blue Store, there were a few tomatoes which may have been locally grown, but they were so flawed that I knew they wouldn’t keep very long. I should have grabbed one or two, however, because Isles General had none of any kind. I am learning that island grocery shopping is quite different from my land-locked experience. We eat well, but it takes a willingness to innovate with what you find. Isles General had pork chops on this occasion, a product we did not find anywhere else this time.
That is the lesson. You make the most of what you find when you find anything. I think we could order special items if we made the order before the boat departs Nassau, and if we knew we would be here the next time it arrives. We haven’t tried that idea yet. The boat comes when it comes, and you get whatever you find.
As we returned to the boat with our treasures, the sun was warm, the sky was deep blue, and the water was every imaginable shade of blue and green. We were splashed by the spray as the dinghy hit the waves, and we were soaked when we got back. Who cares? I remember thinking as we zoomed toward our boat, not the boat, how fortunate I was to be in this place at this time. It is so beautiful here. I thank God every day for the opportunity to enjoy it. It took us a while to get here, but I am learning that time is what you make of it. We are blessed to enjoy this life. And if we are smart, we will learn to flex with the situation and to make the most of it when the boat is in our port.
Friday, January 22
When we left Port Lucaya, we warned all our readers that it would be a while before we had internet again. We were right. However, I did not think it would be as long as it has actually been. This is a learning experience for all of us. My expectations for the interval were probably shorter than yours. We had a plan that didn’t turn out, and that is likely to be a pattern with us now. We are into a cruising experience that does not lend itself to schedules or multi-tasking or productivity planning.
The most important variable every day is the weather. We are very faithful to listen at 6:30AM every day to Chris Parker, the resident meteorologist for the Bahamas and the Caribbean. We try to hear some other broadcasts as well, but we make it a point not to miss his. The weather forecast guides our preparations. If we are at anchor, we evaluate our setting for its value as shelter for the winds predicted that day. If we are planning to cruise, we study the forecast for a good opportunity to reach our destination without bad weather, big winds or ugly seas.
I describe this process, because it is important to help you understand our past few days.
We left Port Lucaya early on the morning of Wednesday, January 20. Our destination was Great Harbor, a large anchorage just south of Great Stirrup Cay. If you look on Google maps for the Berry Islands in the Bahamas, the Stirrup Cays are on the northeast tip of that group of islands. We spent a couple of days there enjoying the clear water and watching cruise ship passengers play in the water.
On Friday, January 22, we headed south planning to go to Frazers Hog Cay. However, as happens sometimes, along the way we spied a little cove that looked interesting and decided to stop there first. We thought that if we didn’t like it, we could continue the next day to our original destination. This little cove is bounded by White Cay, Devils Cay. and Saddleback Cay. Here is where the devil comes in.
We studied the chart and the guide books. The entrance is narrow and bounded by rocks. One must pay close attention going in, and it is important to make a turn to starboard at the right point to get to the marked anchorage off the lovely white sand beach of White Cay. However, sometimes little islands like these do not look the same in reality as they looked in our minds when studying the chart.
We turned into the entrance, and that part worked well, Unfortunately, as we passed the rocky shoal that guards the entrance, we became disoriented and continued too far past the spot where we should have turned. Before we realized the error, we ran aground on a rocky reef. The tide was coming in, and the tidal current no doubt moved us toward the reef faster than we recognized. We attempted to use the engine to back off and then to turn around, but in the middle of our efforts the engine stopped. It refused to restart. We were in a mess.
Experienced Bahamian cruisers say, just as ICW cruisers say, that there are two kinds of cruisers: those who have gone aground, and those who lie. Experienced Bahamian cruisers are fairly nonchalant about this sort of a predicament. We were not and are not yet experienced Bahamian cruisers. We are still learning how to do it.
In the US, a situation like this is very annoying, but no big deal. You call a towboat, you pay the bill, and you move on. In the Bahamas, there are no official towboats. The Bahamian volunteer rescue service focuses on life-and-death emergencies, which our problem was not. However, we made a radio call attempting to connect with someone who could help, and thanks to the kindness and experience of Bill and Barb on S/V Duet, a catamaran anchored nearby behind Devils Cay, we received the help we needed.
Bill and Barb have been cruising the Bahamas for 34 years. They are quite humble about their experience, saying that they have already made all the mistakes, so they know how to help other people. The fact is that they give of themselves without any accounting. They are generous and kind and they go above and beyond any sort of obligation to help one’s neighbor. We think they are angels.
When Bill and Barb arrived, we had just deployed our dinghy. Larry was in the dinghy with the anchor, and I was hauling anchor chain out, loading it in the dinghy. Our plan was to set the anchor in deeper water and use it to pull ourselves off the reef. We had the theory of the process right, but we might never have succeeded without Bill and Barb.
Before they arrived, we had set all our sails, hoping to catch the wind that was blowing in the direction we wanted to go toward deep water, but every time the wind pushed us toward deep water, the current pushed us back to shallow water. We were making no progress toward deep water, and the sails were doing what sails usually do, pulling us forward. By the time they got there we had moved dangerously close to Saddleback Cay, but we were so busy trying to deploy the anchor that we had lost our focus on the effect of the sails. Bill and Barb boiled out of their dinghy and doused the sails. That stopped our crawl toward Saddleback and allowed everyone to focus on the goal of getting the boat back into deep water.
The whole situation was made much more difficult by the wind and current that buffeted us and tried to take us all where nobody wanted to go. However, we were quite fortunate that we ran aground on a rising tide. Even though the current of the rising tide was against us, when it finally turned, it worked with us. The wind was blowing in the a helpful direction, but until the tide turned, it could not give us any headway against the tidal current. After the tide turned, the wind, the current, and all our efforts were pulling the boat toward deep water.
Larry and Bill worked together to set first one anchor, then the other. Barb and I were on deck pulling the anchor rode in. That is how we caused the boat to move.
It was a time for celebration when we finally had the boat floating. We used both of our anchors to pull us into a better position, and finally we were in a location where even the swing of the boat on our primary anchor was unlikely to run on the reef again. Because we were in the path of the tidal current, however, we deployed the second anchor to assure that we were not pushed to a less desirable position. Whew!
Our location was exposed to the cove entrance, but it was a good jumping-off place for us to sail out whenever the wind was right. Since we did not have a working engine, it seemed possible that we might have to do that. We thanked Bill and Barb profusely, and they went back to their day, planning to do some diving in the time remaining.
Several times throughout the days to come, Barb and Bill checked on our well-being. It wasn’t enough that they had put their lives aside for us at the time of crisis. They continued to be concerned for us. When another boat ran aground in a different nearby location, Bill and Barb again made time to help them and followed up with them, too. Both we and the crew of the S/V Mary Rose agree that the S/V Duet has a crew of angels.
Larry and I sat quietly in the cockpit trying to collect ourselves. We were both exhausted. We could not imagine how Bill and Barb would be in the mood to go diving after wearing themselves out helping us. Larry made a few stabs at starting the engine, but it simply refused. We were in a safe place, we could take our time working on the next step, so we simply let go of the problem. It is hard to describe, but we both felt that God was very much watching over us, and we could be at peace about this situation. We had a nice dinner, we took showers, we got a good night’s sleep. A fresh new day would dawn in the morning.
Tomorrow, Day 2 will post.
Aboard No Boundaries
January 4, 2010
Before we ever set out to visit the Bahamas, friends with experience gave us a somber warning. “Be sure you get across before Christmas. The Christmas winds can keep you waiting for days and days.” I wondered what that meant, because I could not find that term anywhere – Christmas winds. I know now what that is all about.
One of our guide books tells the story in more scientific, therefore more cryptic, language. It talks about the fronts that line up to the west of Florida (I deduced that they must form first in the Great Plains) and roll across that state into the Atlantic and across the Bahamas. These fronts come in from the west, but they usually have a northerly component, a dead stop for any plan to cross the Gulf Stream. The description accorded nicely with the comments of other friends about the parade of fronts across the Bahamas in the winter. I filed all this information in my mental folder for the Bahamas and there it sat, waiting for a time when it would be needed.
Well, here we are, still in Florida on January 4. And now we are learning firsthand what the “Christmas winds” are all about.
We never intended to be here in January. When we cruised into St. Marys, GA, on November 30, we thought we needed a few days to do some work on the generator. We might even need to deliver it to the Panda shop in Ft. Lauderdale. We thought a week or ten days ought to do it. However, the math on the rates for Langs Marina showed that if we paid for a month, then, after ten days, the rest of the month was essentially free. We said to ourselves, “What if it takes eleven days, or even twelve?” We never thought for a minute that it would take a whole month.
In fact, when Larry called the Panda folks to tell them that he had done all the tests they recommended at first report of our problem, he expected them to tell him right then that he should put the generator in the shop. Instead, they gave him more tests to run. He did what they advised, and he talked back and forth. It seemed as if all this conversation went on forever. Finally, on Friday, December 18, we delivered the generator to the shop. All the dithering over what to do about this generator had taken almost three weeks, and we seemed to be no nearer a solution than when we started.
We were concerned about all the time it took, but we were more concerned about the likely cost. Even though the generator was still in warranty, we worried that somehow, the work we needed might be ruled out of warranty. You just never know. So here we were, one week before Christmas, and no generator.
The day we delivered it, Larry wanted to arrange to pick it up as soon as possible. He delivered it to Panda at 8AM on Friday morning, and he expected to pick it upon the following Monday afternoon. The service manager quickly disabused him of that expectation. He told Larry to call on Monday afternoon, and then he could give him a better idea when to pick it up.
Larry persisted in his faith that we could pick up the generator at least by Tuesday morning, but we deferred making hotel reservations for the trip until after that call. It was a very good idea. We learned on Monday afternoon that the service team still had no idea when they could give the generator back to us. They seemed not quite sure what it would take to get it working, and they were quite professional in their determination not to guess or string us along with promises or hints of promises that they could not keep. Needless to say, Larry and I speculated endlessly, constantly concerned that we would get a huge bill along with the repaired generator.
Despite all our worries, Panda made the generator good and completed the work under warranty. We are deeply thankful that they saw it that way. We would have loved to get the generator back a lot sooner, but when we pulled into the marina at 5PM on Christmas Eve with the generator in the back of our rented jeep, we felt good about its condition. Unfortunately, the long delay occasioned by the repair did not get us across the Gulf Stream before Christmas.
We enjoyed Christmas Eve with friends. Mike and Suzanne Pillola hosted the evening at their home in St. Marys. We sang and feasted and played games with Roger and Bonnie Ford and our hosts before attending Christmas Eve worship at Christ Episcopal Church. We relaxed on Christmas Day, enjoying a nice dinner and lovely Christmas music all day. (I think we have every Christmas album Mannheim has ever released, plus lots of other great stuff.)
Then it was time to get the generator back into the boat and working again. Larry put it through its paces to confirm that the repairs had, indeed, put it back in working order. All this work was not complete until New Years Eve. We were not ready to leave the marina until New Years Day. We were in for a big shock.
We had no idea the freeze of the century was about to drop in on us, not to mention the Christmas winds.
We had regretted for several days that we had never been able to visit Cumberland Island due to the constant confusion surrounding the generator repairs. We left the marina on New Years Day in a light rain. We said to ourselves that we would not like to walk around the island in the rain. We would visit it the next day. From that day to this it has not been a fit day to go strolling about in the outdoors.
We started following the weather the week intensely the week before New Years Day, and I was unhappy to see that the winds were almost constantly from the northwest. As I watched day after day, this state of affairs continued. When we left the marina, I remember saying hopefully that maybe the winds would change on Wednesday, the day after the last day in the forecast cycle. From that day to this, I keep hoping the same thing – that in five or six days the winds will change. The fronts keep rolling through, and the wind keeps coming at us from the northwest.
I don’t know when this state of affairs will improve. Not only are all the winds from the wrong direction, but we are also in the grip of arctic cold, something we certainly did not expect at the border of Florida. As we check cities down the coast, we can see that the situation is not dramatically better in any location we could reach in two or three days, even if we were willing to go out into the ocean at these temperatures. Wind from the northwest is not itself a problem when we go south along the coast, but a northwest wind at 20 knots and a temperature of even 40 degrees feels quite cold. The forecasts do not indicate that the deep freeze will relent soon.
So here we are still, trapped by the Christmas Winds. We will get to the Bahamas sometime. We take it a day at a time. Nothing enforces flexible decision-making like cruising in a sailboat,.
Christmas is over. The generator is back in its proper place aboard the boat. Larry is testing and retesting and verifying everything about it. When we leave St. Marys, it will be a long time before we are in a convenient place to get help if we need it.
It is time to make that big step – crossing the Gulf Stream and arriving in the Bahamas.
Are we ready? I doubt it. We have tried to get ready, but we have never done anything quite like this before. I used to go around thinking I was prepared to stay out for three months, but as we plan ahead to this adventure, I have learned how little I knew. We have been blessed with friends who have done it, and they have shared their experience with us. We are trying to make sense of it all.
Food. When I sat down with calendar pages for three months and imagined how we would eat three meals a day for that whole time, it proved more challenging than I realized. I tried several different ways to put it all together, but I am convinced that all I have is my best guess. We bought food twice, because I could not bring myself to buy that much the first time out. We bought supplies. We bought things, just in case. Now the boat is a maze of items counted and stacked, uncounted and still in bags, inventoried and put away. I keep telling myself there is room for everything, but I’m still convincing myself that I can cram in one more thing here, one more there.
Money. We have cash for the trip, but like any other trip, I am sure it will cost more than we plan. And we understand that, in the Bahamas, cash is king. Do we need to get more? hmmmmm.
Weather. The Gulf Stream is a great river within the ocean. It goes north with such energy that we are told it is very, very important to plan to cruise when the wind and wave reports are right. The force of the current combined with a wind in the opposite direction is reputed to create conditions no sane person wants to fight. So we scrutinize the reports and the forecasts and pick the brain of experienced cruisers. But sometime, we have to get going.
Thinking. Thinking. I wonder how the original polar explorers ever did it. For that matter, how did Columbus do it? He had much less information than we have. No charts. No idea how far he had to go. Nobody to tell him what it would be like where he actually landed, so all his expectations were completely in error. Yet he departed, he arrived, he returned. Surely we can do the same with charts, radio and all kinds of friendly advice.
When we swooshed across the Francis Drake Channel in February, 1995, on our first sailing adventure, we knew we wanted more of it. It is now upon us, and it looks a little different from this side. We worked hard, we dreamed intently, and we persevered. Here we go. Hurray!