Xmas In A Bahamian Hospital

The Bahamanian courtesy flag.

Merry Christmas from the Bahamas. We spent the afternoon in a hospital waiting for x-rays and stitches.

Now that I've delivered the punchline, here's how it started:

We arrived early yesterday morning (Christmas Eve) at West End after what was a rough passage from Port Everglades inlet. The rough part is something we are getting used to.

Getting out of the inlet with the flood coming in set up some short, steep waves. This was to be expected -- it was more important that we leave so that we arrived in the Bahamas in daylight rather than have a smooth exit from Ft. Lauderdale. After a few miles, the seas calmed down a bit and then soon after we entered the Gulf Stream.

As we've discovered from our previous GS crossings, if the wind is out of the south -- as it should be to scoot across the north-flowing current without drama -- the stream can actually lay the seas down, making this much-dreaded part of the trip actually quite pleasant.

We steered a course of about 90 degrees (due east) on the compass, which was to have compensated somewhat for the strong northerly set of the GS, plus magnetic variation of 7 degrees and compass deviation of -2 degrees. However, as we were pushed north over the 50-mile GS crossing, we also saw the wind, which had been SSE, back to SE. That meant our option to go to Lucaya was shut down -- we'd have to motor for hours directly into increasingly steep chop to get there. Option 2 was to go to West End, which is actually about 20 miles closer, but farther north.

There was only one problem with that plan: being closer meant that we'd arrive there in the dark. Entering an unknown harbor at night is a bad idea, especially in a place such as the Bahamas, which is famous for its reefs and shoaling. That forced us to stay out to sea for hours while we waited the sunrise.

We could have hove to, but Noi was already sea sick over the transom from the short-period waves and I didn't want to try anything out of the ordinary without backup. This forced me to take over pretty much all of the helming duties. That prospect seemed exhausting so I devised a plan to make it a bit easier on myself. Sail-wise, all we had out (in 25-28 knots of wind) was a half-rolled Yankee -- a small sail to begin with, made smaller by being reefed down. There wasn't quite enough sail to punch through the waves, so with the helm over and locked down, Symbiosis crabbed along toward her destination at about 3 knots. I could take my hand off the wheel and let her self-steer. It would have been more comfortable to smash through the waves at 6 knots, and we could have easily done that, but that would have put us at the entrance to West End at 0300 -- way too early.

Eventually, Noi got over her mal du mer and was able to resume a watch shift as the conditions subsided a bit. By around 0700 we could see the outline of West End and knew the entry point for the Old Bahama Marina was on the north tip. Getting in was straight-forward and we got a spot in the nearly empty marina basin. Customs and Immigration was easy too, but expensive -- $300 for a cruising permit that lasts six months. If we'd been able to cut 7 feet off Symbiosis, it would have cost us half that much!

On the dock, I soon encountered Quebecois Carol, from a 36' Carver (powerboat), who inquired about the sea conditions. She explained that she and her husband (Michel) had gone out that day and turned back because of seas they were the worst they'd seen in six years of cruising the area. We learned later that Carol is the author of the only French-language guide to the Great Loop (U.S. East Coast/Mississippi River), Le Great Loop Avec Emotion.

Bahamas meets Thailand -- Noi's lobster salad.

So what's that about the hospital?!

Everything was going great for our holiday. We enjoyed a lobster breakfast (thanks to a local vendor who sold us seven live lobster for $45 -- we overpaid, as it turned out). Delicious. At the marina we are staying at, there's a mandatory $15/day charge for water, so we decided to take advantage of it and washed the boat top to bottom. Noi wanted me to open one of the floorboards that provide access to the bilge so she could clean there as well. I balked. These floorboards have been a constant pain -- no matter how many times I shave down the edges of them, when they get wet, they swell up and will not budge. I have taken to using a screwdriver in the handle to pry them up. Well, this time the screwdriver slipped and gashed my left pinky. It was a pretty deep cut and I also thought there was the possibility that I'd broken the finger. Despite it being Christmas, there was a local driver available and he brought us to West End clinic. An ethnic Indian (as in South Asian) nurse took a look and she insisted I go into the main town, Freeport, for an x-ray. So, off to Freeport. After literally hours of waiting in the ER (isn't it always like that?), I finally got an x-ray (not broken) and five stitches. It hurts a bit and I am medicating it with coconut rum. What a day!

At the clinic in West End.

Anyway, Merry Christmas!

Bahamas Bound

We never planned to go the "Thorny Path" via the Bahamas to the Eastern Caribbean, but alas that's how we are poised to move as we wait for weather in Fort Lauderdale.

Morgan has left us. He's off to a school here where he will get training to work the mega-yacht circuit. We wish him the best of luck. He's been a big help this far and there's a bit of trepidation about losing Symby's third crew member.

A highlight of our stay here was the arrival of our friend Lou Stewart aboard his aptly named TBD. I've known Lou since my first days at Magothy Marina. He's a great guy -- a bit unpredictable, but he likes it that way. About a month after we left the Chesapeake, he set out from Norfolk and has eaten up the miles, both offshore and inshore (ICW) to catch up with us. He was having some trouble with his electric windlass when he came into our anchorage after dark last night, so he telephoned for help and Morgan and I rowed over in the dinghy to lend him a hand. A bit of drama, but it all worked out.

Currently, we are in a small anchorage in Middle River, where we hope to get our window starting Wednesday evening, for a Thursday morning arrival at West End, Grand Bahama Island. We should have southeast winds of less than 20 knots, which should be good for a Gulf Stream crossing.

I am feeling mostly nervous about preparations -- we have a number of small projects to do before we leave. We also have to top off fuel and water. I learned my lesson from the Charleston fiasco to take every opportunity to top off the tanks.

So, I will hopefully be posting next from the Bahamas!

Velcro Beach

Last Wednesday, we arrived in Vero Beach (nicknamed "Velcro Beach" because it's difficult to leave). We have been enjoying our time here -- a good thing, since we're still waiting for a package from Force 10 (propane stove) in British Colombia. The rep there led me to believe that the package would be sent out immediately but that it would probably take two weeks to arrive due to having to go through U.S. Customs. A week later I got a call because my debit card had been declined -- the previous day I left it at a restaurant and had it cancelled. No big deal, but it alerted me to the fact that the part was now likely to take three weeks!

Meantime, I had ordered some extra oil filters and a new MidNite Solar charge controller was sent on its way to us. The first one had some problems, but the company sent a new one after it became clear they couldn't trouble-shoot the problem over the phone. I just reinstalled it yesterday and it seems to be working perfectly. (A violation of Murphy's Law, for sure, but I am willing to entertain the suspension of the natural order to have a fully charged battery!)

The marina at Vero is nice. We are on a mooring with (now) our third buddy boat. It's a bit strange to have relative strangers tied up alongside for an extended period of time, but in reality fellow cruisers are never really strangers. You always have a lot in common. Just avoid the third rail of politics or religion and there's a whole lot to talk about. Pretty much everyone at the marina is setting off for the Bahamas at the first opportunity, though we all need to stage ourselves at some point between here and Miami, wait for the right weather (a gentle southerly for at least 24 hours) and then scoot across the Gulf Stream for either Bimini, Gun Cay or Grand Bahama Island.

Noi took this photo of Symbiosis (bottom) and one of our buddy boats from the masthead.

As soon as we get the stove valve, and assuming the weather is right, we might either go offshore to Fort Lauderdale, where we will drop off Morgan, or else go inside (ICW). I think that will be our jumping off point for either Gun Cay or West End (Great Bahama I.)

The bad news is we've been mulling the disaster that is our budget for this trip. In the first two months, we are 3x over budget, mainly because of boat repairs and marinas (which we must end our addiction to -- and soon!). The good news is that most of that was incurred in the first month and this month we are only a few hundred dollars over-budget. So far!

As per usual, wifi at the marina is a joke, so I am writing this outside a Holiday Inn, where I've pirated a signal in exchange for my email address. Such are the difficult compromises of the 21st Century.

Charleston To Points South

Once again, I am far behind on the blog post thing and once again I apologize.

The news seems to pile up and then it's forgotten. I'll go back to the Charleston, S.C., to Fernandina Beach, Fl. passage:

Our first offshore catch!

As seems to be our want, we had a pretty good first day of sailing. Downwind with fairly moderate seas and winds -- we were doing about 6 knots. Noi threw in the trolling line -- an exercise that has a tinge of futility about it aboard Symbiosis. However, several hours later, we heard the distinctive whirr of "fish on" and I went to reel it in. Inexperienced offshore fishermen (and women) often lose the catch at this point, and I fully expected to be one of them. The tension on the reel wasn't quite right either, and the line was getting bunched up on the spool as I tried to bring it in. Much to our surprise and delight, we did manage to land a tuna (later identified as a Black Fin). Sushi! Noi, who had been a bit sea sick, revived and filleted the catch. Morgan and I ate pieces with soy sauce and wasabi and Noi saved the rest for cooking later.

sashimi.

By the way, thanks to Lisa Borre and David Barker for the reel and lure that made the catch!

Toward the afternoon of the day of the big catch, the wind and waves started to pick up. The bad news was that it was fairly miserable for several hours -- the good news is that the following sea and 30-knot gusts pushed us along like a freight train. We made the passage in 24 hours, instead of the 30 we had anticipated.

But it was a rough trip for us all -- especially Noi. I had been watching the weather and hoping to have a relatively easy passage, but the forecast was a bit off for that second day -- it had been calling for 20 knots and seas of 3-4 feet. Not too bad. However, it turned out more like 25-30 knots and seas of 5-7 feet (and short period, meaning the waves are close together). Those are the sort of conditions that are decidedly unpleasant.

Fernandina Beach on Amelia Island is an interesting, touristy place and we enjoyed a few days there, staying at Amelia Island Yacht Basin. Not nearly as nice as our arrangement in Charleson, but cosy for a few days.

I hope I am not deceiving myself (or jinxing something) as a I observe a positive trend -- we seem to be breaking fewer big things offshore. Ever since leaving Magothy Marina on Oct. 20, our journey has been one extended shakedown cruise. One seemly minor, but annoying breakage along the way has been the Dyneema lifelines. I chose Dyneema (instead of stainless steel) at the suggestion of a salesman whose record on such things I'd learned to trust over the years. Unfortunately, the (stretchy) Dyneema has proven totally unsuitable for said application. Despite locking turnbuckles and even adding Loctite to them, three have spun out and gone overboard -- at nearly $50 a pop. I have been looking for a cheap replacement for the turnbuckles, but most of the hardware stores we encounter are not very well stocked.

St. Augustine from the mooring field.

Anyway, departing Fernandina Beach, we went "inside" (i.e., the ICW) to St. Augustine, a lovely little city with a lot of history. We picked up a mooring run by the municipal marina there (complete with free water taxi), just south of the "Bridge of Lions." The town, the oldest continually occupied in the continental U.S., is quaint and touristy. Castillo de San Marcos, a 16th-Century Spanish fort that stands guard over the inlet is quite interesting.

Among other things, we met Heather at Mary's Harborview Cafe (great breakfast!). Heather is the sister-in-law of Pat & Bruce Blair, our longtime Magothy Marina pals. It's a small world!

With Heather at Mary's Harborview Cafe.

Unfortunately, we could only stay two nights as a big sailing rally had all the slips and moorings taken. We could have anchored out for another day or two but the current is fierce and rowing our dingy through it is not appealing. You're probably wondering why we don't have an outboard. Good question. I weighed the pros and cons, the expense, etc., and decided against it. I consider myself an expert rower, but maybe it wasn't such a wise decision. On the other hand, at St. Augustine, we witnessed an outboard fail (as they are known to do from time to time) and a couple desperately trying to row. They almost didn't make it. So, my theory is that if you can't row it, you shouldn't try it. That, and the current is supposed to get better farther south. We hope. Otherwise, we are going to be spending some money on an outboard.

But, I digress ...

We reluctantly left St. Augustine, but didn't really feel like doing a full-day on the Intercoastal. We were intrigued by a place called Marineland about 20 miles downrange. There didn't look to be much there, but the marina rates were cheap, so what the hell.

So, here we are in Marineland. There are actually a few nice things about the place. We took a guided kayak tour of the estuary here -- a national park that spans tens of thousands of acres. And, today we are going to a dolphin research facility. Also, this place apparently served as the set for Revenge of the Creature from the Black Lagoon (1955), so it's got that going for it!

Waiting, Waiting ...

Yes, I have been remiss in updating this blog. Here are a list of the obstacles to regular blog-writing: lack of reliable wifi; numerous boat projects; having to walk everywhere (or at least beg a ride); the need to socialize with fellow cruisers; general laziness.

Now that the apology is out of the way, let me say that a lot has happened in the past few weeks.

Our leg into Charleston was a bit rough. We got fairly strong winds out of the west and could not beat into the waves. So, we spent an extra day offshore waiting for the conditions to moderate. After a first day of first-rate sailing, we had a second day of second-rate motoring and then a third day where we had to stand off, that was fairly miserable. Crew was seasick off and on and we had to fight our way into the Charleston inlet, as we arrived when the tide was set against us. Yes, we could have hove to and waited, but no one wanted that. The highlight was a pod (or several pods) of dolphins that rode our bow wake for much of the last day. Dolphins have become a commonplace sight, of course, but we still get excited to see them. We tried trolling a line for Mahi or Tuna again, but no joy.

Meantime, we managed to rip two points on our second reef. And, the depth sounder decided to pack it in. More repairs.

The biggest problem is that I had decided not to refuel in Morehead, thinking that 45 gallons of diesel would be sufficient for what was supposed to be a two-day passage. I was wrong. As we sucked down fuel setting into steep easterly waves and wind, we kept watching the level. It was pretty clear we wouldn't have enough to make it -- and running out of fuel in the Charleston inlet, with its strong current, was not something we wanted to do. I think it was Morgan (who did an expert job of getting us closer under sail) who suggested calling Tow Boat U.S. to bring us fuel. Once again, we used our sat phone, as we were too far offshore for cell phone service. The dispatcher sounded annoyed at our request, but when the tow boat operator arrived with 10 gallons of diesel, he seemed in good spirits.

With our fuel, we continued along our way and slowly made it into the inlet, anchoring opposite of City Marina on the Ashley River at about 0530. Next afternoon, we managed to get into City Marina on the "Megadock." Expensive marina, but a nice one.

In the evening we went looking for BBQ and found a place called "Oink!" (Eds: we thought it was called Oink! because of the giant neon sign proclaiming it, but we discovered later that it's actually called Nick's), Not sure if it was two days of not much food (Noi didn't feel much like cooking) or that the food was indeed excellent, but the pulled pork and fried green tomatoes (complete with a local IPA beer) really hit the spot. In subsequent days, we explored Charleston, which has much to recommend it. In fact, we'd say it's currently the favorite of the cities we've visited. We've been to several of the BBQ joints and loved them all (Sticky Fingers, Swig & Swine, etc.) and a truly amazing seafood place called Hyman's.

Meanwhile, we have met some wonderful people: A guy named Ed Snowden, captain of a superyacht. Ed is from North Carolina, the same state that his more famous (infamous) namesake hails from. That's caused him lots of problems. Also, Richard and Kate on S/V Atalanta -- they are heading to the Western Caribbean but have done the "Thorny Path" through the Bahamas to the Eastern Caribbean and had lots of good advice.

Our current plan is to leave Tuesday, head offshore and hopefully make it to Fernandina Beach, Fla. in a few days.

Best Laid Plans ...

Sunrise east of the Gulf Stream.

"All human plans are subject to ruthless revision by Nature, or Fate, or whatever one prefers to call the powers behind the Universe." -- Arthur C. Clarke.

It's a good thing that flexibility is the ethos of cruising: at every turn, we've had to adapt. The latest is a big change.

Our passage to the BVIs did not go as planned. We got a good weather window from Chris Parker (whose forecasts were pretty much spot on throughout, btw). The window called for us leaving as early as possible Saturday afternoon (Oct. 31), so we hit the dock at Morehead (actually it was a delicate operation that involved not hitting the dock despite a wicked current), topped off fuel and water, crew (Christopher Joyce; Morgan Joyce) stepped aboard and we were headed out Beaufort Inlet -- all within about 1 1/2 hours.

We motored east for several hours before reaching the Gulf Stream at about 11 p.m. The crossing was a little bumpy -- especially for the first hour or two near the western wall, but nothing too bad. Once we entered the GS proper, everything smoothed out, thanks to a moderately strong southerly breeze. In 9 hours, we were across.

Noi trying to catch Mahi Mahi.

For the next few days things went generally well, with few problems other than a head overflowing on the intake side and some leaking chain plates on the starboard side (above the pilot berth). Eventually, however, we noticed that the bilge pump was cycling a lot more than we would expect and discovered a fair amount of water below decks. After shutting all the thruhulls -- including the bilge pump (for those mechanically inclined -- it has a check valve but no vented loop).

Chris Joyce enjoying a well-deserved nap.

I disconnected the electric bilge pump and put the discharge directly in a bucket and over the side to eliminate the possibility that water was siphoning in through the thruhull. In the process, I tested the check valve and it seemed to be working properly. After a few hours, we were still pumping about a gallon/minute out of the bilge and there seemed to be no end in sight. Of course, the bilge pump could have kept up with that, but what if it burned out? I imprudently did not have a spare aboard. In any case, we didn't want to do the bucket brigade all the way to Tortola -- at least another 7 days, maybe more.

After consulting with crew, in which we briefly discussed the idea of calling at Bermuda (still four days away and we had no detailed charts for a tricky entrance), we decided to turn back.

On our way back to the GS, we sailed through a pretty intense squall -- at least 35 knots, perhaps 40, with a double-reefed main and the yankee out (still, way too much sail). I later discovered that our radar antenna was knocked off its mount during the 45 minutes or so we rode that weather (surfing along at 8.9 knots!). But it was all just wind; no waves.

In the meantime, we used the sat phone to contact our all around guru and shore-side support person -- Mary Heinritz, who in turn was able to contact Chris Parker for another GS forecast, going the other way. Chris' forecast wasn't great, but not too bad either -- east to southeast 20 knot winds and nine-foot seas across the Stream.

When we finally arrived, the wind at the stream was less than forecast and the crossing was in fact even easier than the way out.

The timing though wasn't the best. We got across the stream in the evening and were off Beaufort Inlet again by the wee hours. We didn't want to go into the generally unfamiliar harbor at night, so loitered offshore in windy and rainy conditions. By daybreak, we were able to make our way in. Noi noticed dozens of iridescent shapes darting under the water in Symbiosis' wake -- Mahi Mahi. She tried to throw a line in and catch one, but no success.

Morgan and Scott.

Finally we arrived at Portside Marina and have spent the last few days doing projects and putting the boat back in order. We've decided on a modified plan that will involve some shorter coastal hopes of a few hundred miles (a few days, that is), each.

Overdue ...

Just a quick note to let everyone know we are again in Morehead City after turning back due to some mechanical issues with the boat. Rather than try for the BVIs again (sans the crew we had expected), we've decided to take a different route altogether: a few short hops down the coast (Charleston? Savannah? Somewhere in Florida?) Then Cuba and either the Thorny Path or simply west to Panama.

All is well and we are taking our time with some repairs and reorganization.