We only picked up snippets of information regarding Gran Cru Thrusday night and Friday morning. Listening in on the VHS conversations, we could hear other members of the Fleet closer to the event offering to assist in what little way was possible; but Gran Cru declined. It wasn’t until we could talk with Kelly and the crew Saturday morning that we got the complete story. Tilloo Bank at the south end of Tilloo Cay, was the site of this debacle. It seems Grand Cru’s occupants selected this site to visit because of the reported plethora of shells rife for the taking on this sand spit. Apparently, it was true. Despite Cap’n Kelly’s repeated admonitions to re-board and depart for deeper waters before the tide went out, deaf ears were unhearing. Upon returning to the monohull, they discovered its keel was firmly aground, monohulls having a deeper keel and hence more susceptible to shallow water woes.
Timeline was something like this:
• Friday PM high tide was in early afternoon
• Discovering the problem was around 4 PM
• Next high tide was 2 AM Friday morning
• Options for the interim …… ZIP.
So what’s an enterprising crew to do? Nothing but make the best of the situation. As the tide went out, the boat became firmly aground as the tide receded (tides in this part of the world fluctuate 2 to 3 feet from high to low). ‘Not a lot unless you’re on a monohull in shallow water when the tile is going out. They dingeyed out to digitally document the increasing tilt of the boat. They cooked to the extent they could. ‘Ship tilt eventually disrupted the plumbing. Making the best of the situation, their patience prevailed, tides turned, the sea swelled and they were able to lift off the bottom around midnight.
Meanwhile, back at Crookshank, we had a leisurely breakfast following a good night’s sleep on level beds; a luxury deprived on the Grand Cru.
We departed Hope Town late morning for the last time. Sailing conditions were perfect. ‘Sunny skies, mid 80’s, brisk 15 – 20 knot winds. We enjoyed a couple hours of catching whatever favorable winds we were blessed with.
Our plan for the day was also to snorkel another reef, Mermaid Reef just east of Marsh Harbor. We located the reef on the GPS and made our way toward it. As we approached, we established our visual sighting. Our plan was to drop anchor well to the east of the reef, and then dingy in closer, as we had done at Fowl Cay. ‘Didn’t work out exactly that way. Did I mention that those 20 knot winds were blowing mostly out of the ENE? Well they were. We dropped anchor, checked our position and began confirming that we were firmly anchored. You do this by lining up two stationary objects a distance away from your boat and watch for a few minutes. If you’re firmly anchored, these two objects alignment do not change. If the boat’s not firmly anchored, alignments shift. …. They shifted. We were moving; not only that, we were moving (drifting) into Mermaid Reef. By the time we realized this, the reef was significantly, perilously closer. Several tense, anxious moments ensued as we struggled to raise the anchor using the powered windlass. Finally, aligning the Crookshank directly over the anchor allowed the windlass to do its job and hoist the anchor safely aboard in its housing on the foredeck, coincidentally allowing us to motor safely away from Mermaid Reef.
It’s time for an aside here. This is one I’ve blogged on before. These sails always produce these small mini-crises, without fail. The crises make for interesting stories …. but more interesting, I think, is the realization that it’s up to us, the crew, to address, assess and redress these problems. There’s not a lot of room for one to sit back and wait for the Calvary to charge in at the last moment. Tempests in a Teapot though they may be, they are very real for the moment, and they become quite the bonding experiences in retrospect. R. W. Emerson’s Self Reliance being lived in real time.
In late afternoon, we made our way back to Marsh Harbor, the sailing side of the trip coming to an end. We motored to dockside, so that the Moorings staff could refuel and berth Crookshank. No small feat in the continuing 20+ knot easterly winds.
Dinner tonight was ashore at one on the best Marsh Harbor restaurants, Wallys. Without prior reservations, we descended to the bottom of the guest list. The wait was worth it. We had a very nice Bahamian Grouper, Key Lime pie and other Bahamian cuisine. ‘Without a doubt, this was the best ashore dining we had during the trip. (‘Perhaps made more succulent by virtue of the fact that, at the end of the trip, we had a budget surplus, thus allowing most of the meal cost coming out of reimbursements from previously paid funds. Sweet! It was previously spent money being re-spent. What could be better?)
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
Thursday 5-20-10: Hope Town
Wednesday’s weather pattern prevailed today, offering little hope of good sailing winds. This port, promising many ashore charms and sights to see, lured us to stay. ‘We did. ‘Generally, but not specifically. You see, we developed one of the common, albeit rarely discussed, plagues of bareboat sailing ….. that being a fouled starboard toilet (this problem being ambidextrous, although). The solution to this issue, a common one with sailboats, is to sail out to open waters, far from any nation’s teeming shore, and then …… ahem ….. drop the load, so to speak. This was our plan, which we executed more or less accordingly. Minor hiccups ensued, but not worthy of immortalizing in this blog, unread thou it may be.
Freed of our restraining baggage, we made our way back to Hope Town to continue our explorations. Entering Hope Town Harbor, we secured Crookshank to a new mooring ball without incident.
Hopetown Lighthouse became our next sight to explore. We made our way there, and in small groups, hiked to the top, all 131 steps mastered at various paces. This is a magnificent Civil Engineering structure, completed in 1863. It's a masonry edifice, foundations unknown, but probably of massive stacked masonry. Unlike its cousin, the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse, Hope Town suffered no debilating shoreline erosion, dictating a massive - in toto - relocation of this structure in 2003. (My company, MACTEC, was soils engineer-of-record for this award winning engineering effort, although I claim no part of the enterprise.)
While I marvel (get wrapped around the axle, some would say) about the construction of historic structures, far cooler, I find for lighthouses like this, are the optics. Using nothing more powerful than a kerosene-flame lamp, optics developed by a French engineer by the name of Fresnel, are able to project the kerosene-flame image out to sea some twenty miles(much to the chagrin of the Abacos salvagers.)
We made our way by dingy, courtesy of Cap’n Scott, to the other side of the harbor for lunch at Cap’n Jacks. ‘ not, great, … bugs swarmed with the fried food, but hunger and we, prevailed.
Thru the afternoon, we explored and shopped the island, highlighted by a stop at Vernon’s, famous for his Key Lime Pie. Yo & I found his pie somewhat lacking, although this apparently was a decidedly minority opinion. Key Lime Pie critics not-withstanding, Vernon, present, and on-the-hoof, was real and his sense of humor, pervasive. ‘In my opinion, our Key lime pie criticism was trumped by Vernon's humor.
Eventually, we made our way, in late afternoon, back to Crookshank. There, we heard, via VHS radio, that Gran Cru, Kelly’s boat, was aground at Tilloo Cay, listing at the time at about 15 degrees. Being too far away, we could only offer moral support …. and wait.
Freed of our restraining baggage, we made our way back to Hope Town to continue our explorations. Entering Hope Town Harbor, we secured Crookshank to a new mooring ball without incident.
Hopetown Lighthouse became our next sight to explore. We made our way there, and in small groups, hiked to the top, all 131 steps mastered at various paces. This is a magnificent Civil Engineering structure, completed in 1863. It's a masonry edifice, foundations unknown, but probably of massive stacked masonry. Unlike its cousin, the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse, Hope Town suffered no debilating shoreline erosion, dictating a massive - in toto - relocation of this structure in 2003. (My company, MACTEC, was soils engineer-of-record for this award winning engineering effort, although I claim no part of the enterprise.)
While I marvel (get wrapped around the axle, some would say) about the construction of historic structures, far cooler, I find for lighthouses like this, are the optics. Using nothing more powerful than a kerosene-flame lamp, optics developed by a French engineer by the name of Fresnel, are able to project the kerosene-flame image out to sea some twenty miles(much to the chagrin of the Abacos salvagers.)
We made our way by dingy, courtesy of Cap’n Scott, to the other side of the harbor for lunch at Cap’n Jacks. ‘ not, great, … bugs swarmed with the fried food, but hunger and we, prevailed.
Thru the afternoon, we explored and shopped the island, highlighted by a stop at Vernon’s, famous for his Key Lime Pie. Yo & I found his pie somewhat lacking, although this apparently was a decidedly minority opinion. Key Lime Pie critics not-withstanding, Vernon, present, and on-the-hoof, was real and his sense of humor, pervasive. ‘In my opinion, our Key lime pie criticism was trumped by Vernon's humor.
Eventually, we made our way, in late afternoon, back to Crookshank. There, we heard, via VHS radio, that Gran Cru, Kelly’s boat, was aground at Tilloo Cay, listing at the time at about 15 degrees. Being too far away, we could only offer moral support …. and wait.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Wednesday: May 19, 2010
After breakfast, we all dingyed in to Man-O-War to explore the town. Here, we have just about returned south as far as we initially went north. So, we’re roughly east to northeast of Marsh Harbor, just on the east side of the Sea of Abaco. Only about 300 live on this 2 ½ mile long island, but they’ve been there over 200 years. Most seem to be named Albury, judging from the name on the shops, Ferrys, and boatyards. Indeed, this family, loyalist settlers after the Revolutionary War, apparently dominated this cay, as well as several others around. Everything seems to be named Albury. Not only did they seem to dominate, but they were strict in their social views, the cay being dry even to this day, although there’s no basis for my attribution of this island characteristic to the Asburys …. just a hunch. The Asburys’ were prodigious boat builders, an active industry here even today, although at least one non-Asbury boat builder’s name was documented. The cay is so small that no autos are allowed; but golf carts proliferate, becoming the primary mode of automated locomotion.
After shopping and lunch on Crookshank (fabulous Tuna melts with sliced black olives, onions, peppercorns, cheese and a dash of EVOO over whole wheat), we headed out.
Departing M-O-W, our destination was the northeast tip of Fowl Cay, location of one of the Bahamas underwater national parks. Winds were puny, so motoring became the order of the day. ‘Arriving at our destination, we recognized “Island Girl” from the Fleet already there. Anchoring well off the reef, we secured the anchor without incident (not always a guaranteed thing, you see) and made our preparations to dingy over to the reef.
Before we departed, it occurred to me that we might have an issue here. Y’see, getting out of the dingy’s no problem, jumping being the universal solution here. Getting in might be another matter, given the dingy’s well inflated mode, riding proudly about 18” above the waterline. Adrienne crafted a solution, which was a line tied with 2-3 successively lower loops to provide foot holds to hoist us aboard. With none of us having a better solution, Ken, Dana, Scott, Adrienne & I embarked.
The reef was spectacular, with the formation reaching from the bottom, 15 feet below to within about a foot of the water’s surface …. but with crystal clear water. Multi-hued tropical fish, brilliant azure, sun-glow yellow, mellow maroon and all hues in between teemed. The occasional barracuda, perennially the loner, lurked and eyed us all. ‘Poker faced all the way.
We snorkeled around the reef, drifting when appropriate, finning against the current where dictated and generally taking in the underwater spectacle. After about an hour, we noticed a thunderhead on the horizon and decided it was time to head in, all pondering what lay ahead, entry-wise.
We weren’t disappointed. We floundered, we flailed, we tugged, we toted, and we struggled. But otherwise, we prevailed. ‘Not with grace, not with beauty, but ultimately with success. We discovered that the mutual struggling, floundering and body parts exposing became a shared, bonding experience that we all later laughed about, commiserated with and shared together.
Upon arriving back at our vessel, we lifted anchor and departed Fowl Cay for Hope Town, arriving about 4:30 PM. We got on a mooring without incident and settled in for the night. We once again ate aboard, enjoying char-grilled Mahi.
Winds have depleted. Humidity has set in. It seems a summer weather pattern has emerged.
After shopping and lunch on Crookshank (fabulous Tuna melts with sliced black olives, onions, peppercorns, cheese and a dash of EVOO over whole wheat), we headed out.
Departing M-O-W, our destination was the northeast tip of Fowl Cay, location of one of the Bahamas underwater national parks. Winds were puny, so motoring became the order of the day. ‘Arriving at our destination, we recognized “Island Girl” from the Fleet already there. Anchoring well off the reef, we secured the anchor without incident (not always a guaranteed thing, you see) and made our preparations to dingy over to the reef.
Before we departed, it occurred to me that we might have an issue here. Y’see, getting out of the dingy’s no problem, jumping being the universal solution here. Getting in might be another matter, given the dingy’s well inflated mode, riding proudly about 18” above the waterline. Adrienne crafted a solution, which was a line tied with 2-3 successively lower loops to provide foot holds to hoist us aboard. With none of us having a better solution, Ken, Dana, Scott, Adrienne & I embarked.
The reef was spectacular, with the formation reaching from the bottom, 15 feet below to within about a foot of the water’s surface …. but with crystal clear water. Multi-hued tropical fish, brilliant azure, sun-glow yellow, mellow maroon and all hues in between teemed. The occasional barracuda, perennially the loner, lurked and eyed us all. ‘Poker faced all the way.
We snorkeled around the reef, drifting when appropriate, finning against the current where dictated and generally taking in the underwater spectacle. After about an hour, we noticed a thunderhead on the horizon and decided it was time to head in, all pondering what lay ahead, entry-wise.
We weren’t disappointed. We floundered, we flailed, we tugged, we toted, and we struggled. But otherwise, we prevailed. ‘Not with grace, not with beauty, but ultimately with success. We discovered that the mutual struggling, floundering and body parts exposing became a shared, bonding experience that we all later laughed about, commiserated with and shared together.
Upon arriving back at our vessel, we lifted anchor and departed Fowl Cay for Hope Town, arriving about 4:30 PM. We got on a mooring without incident and settled in for the night. We once again ate aboard, enjoying char-grilled Mahi.
Winds have depleted. Humidity has set in. It seems a summer weather pattern has emerged.
Monday, May 24, 2010
5-18: On to Man-O-War Cay
Tuesday morning we made ready to cast off for Man-O-War Cay, sans Scott & Dana, who were staying behind for the scuba dive; they would catch up with us that evening by way of “Island Girl”, another of the Fleet vessels. One task we had to do before we left was to pull up to the dock at the marina to replenish our on board water supply. “Crookshanks” has 2 150 gallon water tanks and we had used most of one of them. This necessitated maneuvering the boat adjacent to the dock, so that we could tie up and be replenished. Adrienne & I guided the boat up to the dock without incident and we refilled our empty water tank (PS: Water isn’t free in the out islands of the Bahamas; it was $30 to fill the tanks.)
Upon filling our tank and settlin’ up (paying for non-southerners), we proceeded to ease away from the dock, backing into the wind…. always something to account for, but often overlooked by the novice. We cleared the dock. Easing “Crookshanks” into the forward gears for the two engines --- nothing happened. One, or maybe both, engines had died. We began to drift downwind, closing quickly toward a shore dock downwind to our stern. Fortunately, we quickly realized what was up, and, equally fortunate, the engines cranked quickly and we powered away.
We exited White Sound without incident and made our way back into the Sea of Abaco. Under sail, both Yvonne and Ellen took the helm and experienced being at the helm of the vessel for the first time. Both did very well.
After enjoying catching whatever fair wind came our way for a time, we refocused and set about for Man-O-War. This necessitated renegotiating around Whale Cay, although rocks and reefs remained unmoved, necessitating re-navigation in reverse. This time, while it was nowhere close to the Bahamas famed “Rage”, the seas were as rough as we had experienced and we bounced quite a bit.
‘Interesting aside here. “Fourwinds”, “Grand Cru” and “Crookshanks” pretty much made this passage together around Whale Cay. “Fourwinds” and “Crookshanks”, being somewhat faster, overtook and passed “Grand Cru”. One particularly demonstrative occupant of ‘Grand Cru” expressed the on-board sentiment by successively “mooning” each passing vessel. ‘All in good sport, of course!
On both passages around Turtle Cay, our GPS acted strangely at about the same point, both going and coming. Was it just difficulty getting a satellite fix … or something more sinister? Bermuda Triangle? We’ll never know. Anyway, we did it the old fashioned way, reading the maps, recognizing land points and making our way south. It worked, and we arrived at the entrance to Man-O-War Cay.
We got in around 5:30 PM. Most of fleet anchored together, although James Murray’s boat returned to Marsh Harbor because of refrigerator problems. Dinner was on board with grilled lemon parsley chicken breast (grilled Mahi for Peter), served with couscous & salad.
Weather: Winds lessened mid-day. Humidity increased.
Upon filling our tank and settlin’ up (paying for non-southerners), we proceeded to ease away from the dock, backing into the wind…. always something to account for, but often overlooked by the novice. We cleared the dock. Easing “Crookshanks” into the forward gears for the two engines --- nothing happened. One, or maybe both, engines had died. We began to drift downwind, closing quickly toward a shore dock downwind to our stern. Fortunately, we quickly realized what was up, and, equally fortunate, the engines cranked quickly and we powered away.
We exited White Sound without incident and made our way back into the Sea of Abaco. Under sail, both Yvonne and Ellen took the helm and experienced being at the helm of the vessel for the first time. Both did very well.
After enjoying catching whatever fair wind came our way for a time, we refocused and set about for Man-O-War. This necessitated renegotiating around Whale Cay, although rocks and reefs remained unmoved, necessitating re-navigation in reverse. This time, while it was nowhere close to the Bahamas famed “Rage”, the seas were as rough as we had experienced and we bounced quite a bit.
‘Interesting aside here. “Fourwinds”, “Grand Cru” and “Crookshanks” pretty much made this passage together around Whale Cay. “Fourwinds” and “Crookshanks”, being somewhat faster, overtook and passed “Grand Cru”. One particularly demonstrative occupant of ‘Grand Cru” expressed the on-board sentiment by successively “mooning” each passing vessel. ‘All in good sport, of course!
On both passages around Turtle Cay, our GPS acted strangely at about the same point, both going and coming. Was it just difficulty getting a satellite fix … or something more sinister? Bermuda Triangle? We’ll never know. Anyway, we did it the old fashioned way, reading the maps, recognizing land points and making our way south. It worked, and we arrived at the entrance to Man-O-War Cay.
We got in around 5:30 PM. Most of fleet anchored together, although James Murray’s boat returned to Marsh Harbor because of refrigerator problems. Dinner was on board with grilled lemon parsley chicken breast (grilled Mahi for Peter), served with couscous & salad.
Weather: Winds lessened mid-day. Humidity increased.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
5-17: Green Turtle Cay, Day 2
The day started with Adrienne preparing egg omelets for the entire crew in the ship’s galley. ‘Very tasty. After that, we rented golf carts for the day to explore the island. Since we were on the north end of the island, we headed south along the east side of the island, adjacent to the Atlantic. About half way down, we stopped at a secluded, deserted beach that the locals said had some interesting reefs. There was even trees (hence shade) on the beach for Peter to enjoy; Peter’s philosophy is that he enjoys doing things on the water, but not in the water. We snorkeled for about an hour, although Yvonne and Ellen got out quickly, not being particularly comfortable in the water either. The reef was interesting but not spectacular.
After exiting and drying off, we proceeded south to the southern end, to the small, but very picturesque town of New Plymouth. Established in the 1800’s, it consisted of one to three story pastel colored wood frame houses, a museum, churches on every corner, shops and a variety of eating establishments. I noted with interest that almost every house had a concrete below-grade cistern to collect rainwater off the roof. I never found out if this water was consumed, or only used for other purposes. I saw similar cisterns in most of the other out-island towns we visited.
We ate lunch at the Wrecking Tree restaurant located beside, what else? the Wrecking Tree. Here a story ensues. In the 1800’s, the Bahamas, although reeking with charm and natural beauty, did not abound with ways to make a living. However, because of the hundreds of miles of shoreline teeming with offshore submerged reefs and the low flat terrain of the islands, hapless sailing vessels and their crew floundered and sank with regularity. Realizing this, a cottage industry of wreck salvage sprang up. While it sounds pretty buccaneer-ish, the industry was fairly regulated by the British government in Nassau. Hence the Wrecking Tree. At this site, beneath this tree, salvaged goods were assessed, sorted and maybe shipped off to be sold. The government got 15%, the salvagers got 50%, and the remainder presumably went to the unfortunate boat owner.
For a while, the business boomed. Then in 1863, the British government decided more navigational aid was in order and construction started on the candy-striped 130’ lighthouse in Hope Town. Concerned salvagers viewed this as a threat to their livelihood. Several instances of vandalism at the construction site occurred, but to no avail. The lighthouse is still functioning today.
After lunch, we made our way back up the island to White Sound, where several of our crew, as well as some from other fleet vessels, had signed up for Scuba classes and a dive on Tuesday. That night, probably 30 of us simultaneously showed up at the Jolly Roger restaurant. We somewhat overwhelmed the staff, but they recovered nicely.
While at the restaurant, we saw a video of James (on Gran Cru) getting dunked while swinging from a Boson’s chair attached by a halyard on the main mast. The Grand Cru, being a mono hull heels over nicely when on a reach. So, anyone hanging from the main mast while the boat is heeling is suspended over the water outside the boat. The helmsman, with simple maneuvers can dunk the outboard rider at will. It was fun and made for great video.
The McKey family has dinner at the Green Turtle Club restaurant (nice décor, white tablecloths). Jimmy treated his entire family, approx. 15. This is a reprise of dinner at this restaurant in 1971 with Jimmy, Jimmy’s wife Frances, John & Mary celebrating J & M’s graduation from USF. This was the family’s first trip to the Bahamas. Many more were to follow.
Weather: clear, winds 10-15 mph. Moderate humidity.
After exiting and drying off, we proceeded south to the southern end, to the small, but very picturesque town of New Plymouth. Established in the 1800’s, it consisted of one to three story pastel colored wood frame houses, a museum, churches on every corner, shops and a variety of eating establishments. I noted with interest that almost every house had a concrete below-grade cistern to collect rainwater off the roof. I never found out if this water was consumed, or only used for other purposes. I saw similar cisterns in most of the other out-island towns we visited.
We ate lunch at the Wrecking Tree restaurant located beside, what else? the Wrecking Tree. Here a story ensues. In the 1800’s, the Bahamas, although reeking with charm and natural beauty, did not abound with ways to make a living. However, because of the hundreds of miles of shoreline teeming with offshore submerged reefs and the low flat terrain of the islands, hapless sailing vessels and their crew floundered and sank with regularity. Realizing this, a cottage industry of wreck salvage sprang up. While it sounds pretty buccaneer-ish, the industry was fairly regulated by the British government in Nassau. Hence the Wrecking Tree. At this site, beneath this tree, salvaged goods were assessed, sorted and maybe shipped off to be sold. The government got 15%, the salvagers got 50%, and the remainder presumably went to the unfortunate boat owner.
For a while, the business boomed. Then in 1863, the British government decided more navigational aid was in order and construction started on the candy-striped 130’ lighthouse in Hope Town. Concerned salvagers viewed this as a threat to their livelihood. Several instances of vandalism at the construction site occurred, but to no avail. The lighthouse is still functioning today.
After lunch, we made our way back up the island to White Sound, where several of our crew, as well as some from other fleet vessels, had signed up for Scuba classes and a dive on Tuesday. That night, probably 30 of us simultaneously showed up at the Jolly Roger restaurant. We somewhat overwhelmed the staff, but they recovered nicely.
While at the restaurant, we saw a video of James (on Gran Cru) getting dunked while swinging from a Boson’s chair attached by a halyard on the main mast. The Grand Cru, being a mono hull heels over nicely when on a reach. So, anyone hanging from the main mast while the boat is heeling is suspended over the water outside the boat. The helmsman, with simple maneuvers can dunk the outboard rider at will. It was fun and made for great video.
The McKey family has dinner at the Green Turtle Club restaurant (nice décor, white tablecloths). Jimmy treated his entire family, approx. 15. This is a reprise of dinner at this restaurant in 1971 with Jimmy, Jimmy’s wife Frances, John & Mary celebrating J & M’s graduation from USF. This was the family’s first trip to the Bahamas. Many more were to follow.
Weather: clear, winds 10-15 mph. Moderate humidity.
5-15: Green Turtle Cay
Our entry into White Sound was uneventful. Securing Crookshank to a mooring was somewhat more eventful. Over-motoring our mooring ball resulted in a broken grappling hook, a necessary tool to pick up the line(s) attached to any mooring. After securing our mooring, we explored the surrounds, hiking over the island ridge past Bluff House to a beach on the Sea of Abacos side, where we saw beautiful 12” size brilliant maroon starfish in the crystal clear waters of the beach.
Returning to Crookshank, we discovered… to our chagrin… that our mooring was 100% downwind from the local dump ashore, currently operating in full burn mode, resulting in choking smoke, generous deposits of ash aboard, and heaven knows what else. We elected to move & find another mooring.
We spotted one outside the downwind smoke & headed for it. ‘One small problem, that being the broken grappling hook, offered a challenge as to the mechanics of the picking up the mooring ball. Necessity being the Mother of Invention, we came up with a solution. With no functioning grappling hook, we hit upon the idea of using the dingy to secure the mooring ball line & then hand it up to others on Crookshank.
This worked … up to a point. ‘This point being when the starter rope on the dingy gasoline engine snapped, leaving the dingy without power or means of movement. Meanwhile Crookshank bore down upon the hapless occupants of the dingy, me included. It seemed we were reprising the swimmer’s view from the water in "Jaws". But we prevailed and securement of boat and ball ensued.
‘Later that evening, Yvonne prepared a delightful meal of shrimp with tarragon sauce over rice, after appetizers of crab cocktail over cream cheese.
The weather continued to be clear, winds 15 to 20 knots, with low humidity. ‘Great sleeping weather!
Returning to Crookshank, we discovered… to our chagrin… that our mooring was 100% downwind from the local dump ashore, currently operating in full burn mode, resulting in choking smoke, generous deposits of ash aboard, and heaven knows what else. We elected to move & find another mooring.
We spotted one outside the downwind smoke & headed for it. ‘One small problem, that being the broken grappling hook, offered a challenge as to the mechanics of the picking up the mooring ball. Necessity being the Mother of Invention, we came up with a solution. With no functioning grappling hook, we hit upon the idea of using the dingy to secure the mooring ball line & then hand it up to others on Crookshank.
This worked … up to a point. ‘This point being when the starter rope on the dingy gasoline engine snapped, leaving the dingy without power or means of movement. Meanwhile Crookshank bore down upon the hapless occupants of the dingy, me included. It seemed we were reprising the swimmer’s view from the water in "Jaws". But we prevailed and securement of boat and ball ensued.
‘Later that evening, Yvonne prepared a delightful meal of shrimp with tarragon sauce over rice, after appetizers of crab cocktail over cream cheese.
The weather continued to be clear, winds 15 to 20 knots, with low humidity. ‘Great sleeping weather!
5-15: Serious Sailing in the Sea of Abaco
Actually, it wasn’t so much the serious sailing as the serious navigating. Our plan was to head north from Fisher’s Bay to Green Turtle Cay, a total distance of maybe 12 -15 nautical miles, heading mostly northwest; winds continued to be from the south, southeast. The tricky thing about this sail was the Whale Cay passage. The Moorings considered it tricky enough that they requested each vessel radio them before entering and after emerging from this passage. The problem was that the obvious passage was west of Whale Cay and east of Treasure Cay, a large opening in the Sea of Abaco. ‘Trouble is this large, innocuous passage was rife with shallow water, submerged reefs, even an ominous feature named “Don’t Rock”. Being too shallow for our size boats, the only other passage was to the east of Whale Cay, then west thru a fairly narrow course between Whale Cay and shallow waters to the north. To the east of this passage are the open waters of the North Atlantic. When wind conditions are right (generally out of the east/northeast, a condition locally known a “Rage” develops which result in tricky and dangerous sailing conditions. (Even large cruise vessels sometimes cannot negotiate Rage conditions in these waters.)
But we successfully maneuvered the passage, being aided by GPS waypoints identifying the center of the passage, (by visual means undetectable), and generally by the absence of Rage conditions. Once thru this passage, it was relatively smooth sailing on to the approach into Green Turtle Cay.
But we successfully maneuvered the passage, being aided by GPS waypoints identifying the center of the passage, (by visual means undetectable), and generally by the absence of Rage conditions. Once thru this passage, it was relatively smooth sailing on to the approach into Green Turtle Cay.
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