cruising on the Mary T

Well, it is now the end of February and rather than being further south, we are actually further north. The day before we were planning to depart Clarence Town, Long Island for Turks and Caicos, Captain Kenny declared a halt to the voyage due to a persistent pain in his back in the kidney region. (He has a history of kidney stones). He was also feeling uneasy about going so far and being away from our families and friends for so long. Being a generous soul and not wanting to shatter my dream, Kenny offered to let me take Mary T with the crew of my choice. It was a thrill to know he had such confidence in my seamanship, but the thought of going without him on Mary T just didn’t feel right. All for one and one for all. Trinidad and Tobago won’t go anywhere. We can try again in the future when we’re both feeling fit as fiddles. Although initially saddened by our change in plans, we are now embracing the concept of a leisurely sail through the Bahamas visiting some old haunts and investigating some new ones.

We are currently in the sailing Mecca of Georgetown, Great Exuma, along with 400 other cruisers. The harbor is so littered with boats that at night the anchor lights make it look like a city. Stocking Island, opposite Great Exuma is the playground for hundreds of cruisers all winter long. They play volleyball and dominoes, weave baskets, do yoga, aqua fitness, bocce ball, dances, concerts, talent shows… Many people camp out here for the whole season, while others spend just a few days and move on. Every morning there is a radio network on VHF for the cruisers and the announcements last for at least an hour. Next week is regatta week, so there are even more planned activities than usual. I was thinking about making a documentary about it, but I found out one has already been made and I’m afraid my heart isn’t really in it. Besides we’d rather move on to new territory.

If the weather remains favorable, we shall depart Georgetown on Tuesday and head for Cat Island, birthplace of Sidney Poitier. We’ve never been, so it’ll be a new adventure. Cat Island is famous for its hermitage built by Father Jerome, a British Anglican turned Catholic who is also an architect. His beautiful churches can be found all over the Bahamas.

Other than our change in itinerary, the really big news is that on Kenny’s 60th birthday we caught our first fish. The HORROR! We’d been trolling so long without success that neither of us noticed when the line had been pulled out from its clip attached to the stanchion. Suddenly Kenny said, “Hey, I think there’s something on the line. Maybe some seaweed.” I slowly started to pull it in and could see that it was a fish. Reeling it in at first seemed easy, so we thought it must be quite small. “Maybe we’ll just let it go.”

As it got close we realized our catch was a rather good-sized Mahi, a beautiful, brilliantly colored fish. It was so easy to pull in that I wasn’t prepared for the violent thrashing when I actually lifted it from the surface of the water. I quickly let the line out again and dragged it for a bit. “Kenny, get the gaff and the alcohol.” As it thrashed to and fro trying to free itself, Kenny tried alternately to get the gaff in it’s gills and spray it with alcohol from a mister with little success. “This is horrible!” As the fish became more tired we managed to hold it above the surface of the water off the stern of the boat. Kenny took the top off the mister and dumped several big gulps of cheap vodka down the fish’s gullet. Finally it went limp.

Then came the more arduous work of filleting and skinning it. I’d watched videos and read about it and even watched people do it, but suddenly confronted with the task on my own, I couldn’t seem to remember exactly how to do it. Fortunately we have a good knife, so I did manage to get enough fish off of it for us to have two meals. If I’d done it right we could’ve had three or four. Kenny said he felt like an accomplice and was afraid he’d have nightmares of the dying fish’s gaping mouth.

Maybe we’ll become vegetarians.

For those who may not know the etiquette, boats visiting foreign countries are expected to fly the flag of the host country in a prominent position on their boat. This is referred to as a courtesy flag. On sailboats, it’s supposed to be flown on a flag halyard on the starboard side of the mast.

We spent about four months in the Bahamas our previous trip in 2008. We used flag on the right (Ny-Glo, purchased from Defender)

This year, we’ve been here five weeks today (February 19) and are using the flag on the left. (some no-name brand, purchased from Bluewater Books & Charts)

Did we have that much more wind in five weeks this year than we did in four months in 2008? Or, does Ny-Glo make much better flags? We’re inclined to believe the latter.

The intrepid crew of the Mary T has slowly worked its way to a latitude of 23 degrees 06 minutes North and longitude 74 degrees 58 minutes West, which puts us just a hair below the Tropic of Cancer. It is the farthest south we have ever sailed, though we visited this place by car three years ago. Clarence Town on the southeast side of Long Island boasts two exquisite churches, three restaurants, the world’s deepest blue hole and a small comfortable marina called the Flying Fish. After four nights at two different anchorages here we elected to take a slip at the marina while a fierce nor’easter blows through. If we had remained at anchor it would have been difficult to make it ashore in our dinghy with its five horse power motor.

Marinas, however, do have their disadvantages. Yesterday morning I was passing breakfast items out to Kenny in the cockpit. After handing him the coffee pot cozy that Viki Keating made for us, I heard him yelp. A mouse had hidden in the cozy and jumped out as Kenny was placing it over the coffee pot. It must have sneaked aboard via our dock lines when we weren’t looking. The frightened creature skittered around the cockpit and suddenly disappeared. There is nowhere to hide in the cockpit, so we were mystified. Then Kenny realized it must be hiding in one of his shoes. He slowly picked up one shoe and turned it upside down over the water. Nothing. When he held the second shoe over the side of the boat, a small grey mass tumbled into the water. That is the last we’ve seen of the poor little fellow.

After talking with some other cruisers here, we have decided to alter our course and enter the Caribbean via the Windward Passage between Haiti and Cuba. It is something Kenny had suggested long ago, but we had decided to go the way of most cruisers along the north coast of the Dominican Republic and head south between the DR and Puerto Rico. Most cruisers choose that route because it is more direct if you’re heading for the Virgin Islands and points further south. Taking the Windward Passage obliges one to go a bit to the west before heading east. It is a much gentler and quicker route to the Caribbean if one is not in a hurry to arrive in Puerto Rico. According to many accounts, sailing east along the southern coast of Hispanola in the Caribbean is much nicer than bashing east against the tradewinds in the Atlantic Ocean on the inhospitable northern coast of the Dominican Republic. This route also allows us to avoid the Mona Passage between  the DR and Puerto Rico which is known for being treacherous.

Of course as we sit here listening to the winds howl through the rigging, we sometimes wonder if we’ll ever go anywhere at all. Our current plan is to wait for things to settle down and then head for the island of Great Inagua, the southernmost in the Bahamian chain - a 25-hour sail from our current location. It is known for its birds and meteor showers. It also has a small town where one can get basic provisions and fuel. From there we will prepare for our trip through the Windward Passage. The trip from Great Inagua to Ile a Vache off the southwest coast of Haiti is about 230 nautical miles, which is two days of sailing for us. The northern part of the passage can be a bit rough, but once you get south of 20 degrees latitude things settle down.Ile a Vache is reputed to be a little paradise without many of the problems, which plague the Haitian mainland. At any rate these winds won’t settle down for a while, so it’s possible we’ll be here for a couple of weeks or more… No matter. We’ve got plenty to do - videos to shoot, videos to edit, books to read, bread to bake, boat projects and cleaning. Never a dull moment on the Mary T.

We’ve made new friends here, at Clarance Town. Wade and Diane on Joana, a 53-foot gorgeous steel behemoth of a sloop, that they built entirely on their own. Diane is a retired nurse and Wade a retired lieutenant colonel from the Canadian army. They are a very can-do, helpful and generous couple. Diane gave Kenny some good advice on how to bring down the swelling of his knee.Joana has been traveling in company with Brian and Gail on Novia. Novia is in the marina with us while Joana remains at anchor. We are all headed in the same direction, but as Joana is a much larger vessel they may end up departing in higher winds than Novia or Mary T, so we may part ways and find each other down the road. Gail and Brian are a very sweet, laid back couple. Brian used to be an air traffic controller, which is one of those jobs that makes me shudder.

We had a Valentine’s Day lunch at Le Pon in town, with the crews of Novia, Joana, and Marionette. Marionette, with Dee Dee, Pete and their two dogs, is out anchor as well, hoping to get favorable winds to head down to Luperon in the DR.The crews of Joana and Novia and me, rented a car together to see some sights and do some shopping. We drove to Dean’s blue hole nearby with our snorkel gear. (Kenny generously offered not to go as we could only fit five in the car). There were a couple of guys at the hole free diving. One of them was the world record holder and we got to see him dive down 100 meters (about 325 feet). He lay on the surface of the water for some time relaxing and then gulping as much air as possible before taking the plunge. Brian and I watched him from the surface with our masks and snorkels as he disappeared into the black hole. We could only see him for the first sixty feet or so. Three minutes later he shot to the surface, took a few deep breaths, and climbed back onto the raft like nothing happened. He was using a new thing called a mono-fin, which is a giant flipper that you put both feet in. It allows for greater speed and when sporting it with a sleek wetsuit, one could easily be mistaken for a mermaid.

The other night, while we were still at anchor I was flinging my dinner crumbs over the side of the boat and accidentally tossed my whole plate into the drink. We gazed over the side as the black disk floated to the bottom. The moon was half full and the water as clear as a bell so we could see it without any problem. I asked Kenny if he wanted me to go down and get it right away. He thought it would be fine to wait until morning. Next day the boat had swung on anchor so we weren’t exactly in the same place, but after swimming around the boat for five minutes with mask and snorkel I eventually came upon the missing plate. It wasn’t hard to clean after that, just a short rinse to remove the salt water. Kenny surmised we could save a lot of time and fresh water by flinging all the dishes in the water every night and fetching them in the morning.

Prior to arriving in Clarence Town, we were in Calabash Bay on the west side of Long Island with our friends Corning and Tita on Blessed Spirit. We enjoyed sharing meals with them and Corning and I went snorkeling together one morning. We parted ways there, but we continue to talk nearly every day on the SSB radio.Next we visited the islands of Conception and Rum Cay. Conception is uninhabited and part of the Land and Sea Park. I did some snorkeling from the kayak, and saw gobs of colorful fish and fields of underwater fans waving in the current.

Rum Cay was a mysterious place. We felt we’d arrived at a private club where we were not members. The marina owners were absent, so other boaters and friends of the owners were kind of running things. The guidebooks talked about the amazing gourmet food at the marina restaurant, but when we arrived on Superbowl Sunday (how ’bout dem dere Pack, eh?) we were told there was a potluck. When we went up later to check things out, “Rasta” told us he was cooking something for the skydivers staying in the cabanas and we could come and pay like $20 each in addition to bringing our own dish. We didn’t quite get it, so we decided to try another local joint.

We’d had cocktails at Kaye’s with a gregarious group of islanders, so we decided to try the only other place in town, the Ocean View Restaurant. Although she normally expects at least one hour advance notice for dinner, Ruby, the owner, cooked us up a delicious fish dinner. She took pity on us when she learned we’d come all the way from the marina through the mosquito gauntlet. There were only three other patrons and Ruby’s son or nephew who seemed less than thrilled with our presence. By halftime the only ones left were Kenny and I and Toby, who had passed out in his chair. The population of Rum Cay is only about 55 people and most of the inhabitants are really quite friendly. There is not a heck of a lot to do, so I can understand why a lot of the population has embraced drinking as a primary pastime.

We were tired and decided we didn’t need to watch the rest of the game, so we bid adieu to the Ocean View, and walked the mile back to the marina along the dark, dirt road with our flashlight. The crowd of skydivers and kite boarders were hooting and hollering at the TV up at the marina restaurants as they watched the 2nd half of the Superbowl, while we lay snug in our V-berth wondering what we were missing.

It is now two days since I wrote this blog and we’ve had a change in plans. Due to boat insurance considerations and the inability to buy diesel fuel in Ile a Vache, Haiti, we’ve decided to take the other route to the Caribbean. From here we will sail to the Turks and Caicos and then travel along the north coast of the Dominican Republic, go through the Mona Passage (bt. Puerto Rico and the DR) and land on the south coast of Puerto Rico….or maybe we’ll turn around from Turks and Caicos and head back north… We’ll keep you posted as we continue on this mystery tour.

Having thoroughly enjoyed the luxury of the Marina at Emerald Bay yet anxious to move along, we headed to George Town, Great Exuma. George Town has long been a mecca for cruisers due to its well protected harbor and recreational opportunities. Many boaters go there and stay the entire winter. We, however, were on a short mission. I needed to re-stock my meds. Those of you that know me, know how impossibly difficult I can be if I miss just one dose of my meds.

We anchored near town and dinghy-ed to shore the following day. The government clinic where Amy had visited a dentist three years ago, is a short walk north. However, they did not have any of my prescriptions in stock. We were told to go to Smitty’s Drug Store quite a piece up the road.

Fortunately, hitch-hiking is a very acceptable way of travel in the Bahamas. You can usually count on a lift within about three cars. We were quickly picked up by a pick up. Riding in the bed of a pick-up is also a very Bahamian thing. Although somewhat stirred, we were not shaken by the five mile ride.  The two ladies (mother and daughter) dropped us off at Smitty’s which is also a food store. There, in the back, was the pharmacy–about the size of a very small closet. Without asking for any other paperwork, the pharmacist read the prescriptions off the bottles and filled them all within ten minutes. With our mission accomplished, we headed back. To our surprise, we were picked up by the same gals in the pick up who just happened to be heading back south. How convenient.

We got back to Mary T mid day.  Amy prepared a picnic lunch that we enjoyed on the Atlantic side of Stocking Island. We were in the company of Ralph and his seven-year old son, Nicholas, off of Pfiffikus, from Switzerland. Ralph was spear-fishing for lobster so, Amy and Nicholas snorkeled. I  watched. We were the only people on this lovely beach despite the fact that there were close to 200 boats anchored on the other side of the island. Ralph speared one lobster–enough for an appetizer for his family of four. And, Amy made a new friend in Nicholas shown here with his father’s spear.

The following day, we headed to Thompson Bay on Long Island, knowing we’d find our friends on Blessed Spirit there.  The sail over was great despite the threatening clouds. We set anchor in the protected waters of Thompson Bay around 4:30 and called our friends on the radio. Normally, when out of VHF radio range, we keep in touch by SSB radio. Thus, they were very surprised to hear us on the VHF only about a quarter mile away.

We’ve been here since Friday, enjoying the company of friends, visiting the beach, and partaking of the food and beverages at Long Island Breeze, the cruisers’ hang-out in the town of Salt Pond. On Monday, we made a hitch-hiking pilgrimage to Max’s Conch Bar down island at Deadman’s Cay. We’d been there three years ago and were looking forward to Max’s famous conch salad. We were not disappointed. It took only two rides to go the 15 or so miles there and only one, to get back. Jenny, the school teacher who drove us back, went about five miles out of her way to drop us off at the path to the beach where our dinghy was beached. Such is the hospitality of the Bahamians.