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.