The End of the Great 2019 Bahamian Adventure

I believe I left you about a month ago in the Abacos on a lowering tide without a paddle? My apologies. At that time, we were making plans to store Echoes for the season and I was making calls to realtors to sell my parents’ condo in Marco when things spun wildly out of control. To make a long story short, we rushed to Fort Pierce, Florida, put Echoes on the hard, bee lined to Marco and sold the condo.

But I can’t end the adventure with mundane land lubbers details. I want to tell you about the end of the voyage.

We hopped, skipped, jumped, sailed and back tracked through some familiar Abaco islands and discovered some new treasures along the way.

We gunkholed in an estuary off of Treasure Cay with hundreds of juvenile sea turtles. There is quite a bit of mystery and research about where sea turtles go after they hatch and run for their lives down the beach and into the sea. Well, I’d say a good number of them hide in this estuary of warm water, delicious sea grass and plenty of mangroves to hide in with only a few sharks to contend with.

Hershel Turtle popped his head out and quoted, “Behold the turtle. He makes progress only when he sticks his neck out.” James Bryant Conant 

Many of our best Bahamian friends made a special visit to bid us farewell. They wished us luck, told us to hurry back and quoted from the best. For instance, these Cormorants quoted Vince Lazzara: “God only gives you so many days but the ones you spend at sea don’t count against you”

And holding that thought, perhaps Dominic Dolphin said it best when he quoted Sir Francis Chichester: “Any damn fool can navigate the world sober. It takes a really good sailor to do it drunk.”

Or the pod in the following video who took turns speaking the words of John F. Kennedy: “All of us have in our veins the exact same percentage of salt in our blood that exists in the ocean, and, therefore, we have salt in our blood, in our sweat, in our tears. We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea – whether it is to sail or to watch it – we are going back from whence we came.” Return to us! cried the dolphins as the darted away.

At last, we ended up in the northern Abacos at the uninhabited Double Breasted Cay to prepare for our voyage home.

We decided that rather than making several overnight stops to notoriously crappy anchorages with bumpy water that we would ride those bumpy waters while making way. In other words, we decided to sail twenty-one hours straight from Double Breasted Cay to Fort Pierce, Florida, crossing the gulf stream. We would take four hour sleeping shifts throughout the night. We spent a quiet night in Double Breasted, gunkholed and enjoyed the cays the following morning and left for Fort Pierce at about two in the afternoon as we wanted to come to Fort Pierce’s inlet at slack tide in the mid morning. The sky that night threw us the very best going away party we could have asked for.

There are three stories I want to tell you about the crossing. The first is that it was so calm that we had to engine almost the entire way. This is just fine. We were hoping for and planning on calm seas. But, it was so calm, that for our first time while underway, we grilled and made wonderful pork roast dinner along the way. It was plain fun.

The second story is from my shift from ten pm to two am. I spent the first hour dodging enormous cargo ships. It must have been a busy cross section of sea at rush hour. I changed courses several times just to be careful. It wasn’t scary exactly, but it was engaging. Then they were all gone and I got bored sitting in my princess push pit seat watching the sky. The flag directly behind me began annoying me with its flapping and whipping me. And then it dawned on me, it was windy. Now, you know that I am just a daydreaming sea princess pretending to be a sailor and that Captain Capableandincommand is the brains behind the operation. And he is always sharing “teaching moments”….”Now you see the vector radius of the dominant sail has a collateral load due to obtuse wind velocity”…but secretly I’m not listening. I’m imagining musical formulas coming out of his mouth like cranky classical music and blowing away in the wind. What I’m trying to say is, Captain Engineeringlyverboseperfectionist teaches me more by having me watch and listen than do. So come back to me at midnight, alone at sea, bored and the wind has picked up. Say, I thought to myself, maybe I could sail. I have never raised a sail on my own, trimmed one on my own or sailed on my own. A angel in a jaunty sailor’s hat and a demon with a krakens body, life vest and snorkel stood on each of my shoulders. “Don’t pick the middle of the ocean, close to the gulf stream, in the middle of the night, to make your first solo attempt at sailing!” argued the angel.” “Do it,” whispered the kraken. I very carefully let out a little sail, trimmed it and watched. Then, I let out more and more and more until the full sail was out. I turned off the engine for a while but was not making enough way to reach our goal at arriving at slack tide. So I motored sailed the rest of my shift adjusting the sail as I went. Captain Sleepyhead popped his head up at two am to relieve my shift and said, “Look at that flag, I bet we can sail.” “Look!” I said pointing to the bow with a full jib bellowing. His head spun three hundred sixty degrees with his eyes bulging. The gesture was quite satisfactory.

Story number three is John’s story from his shift between two to six am. About three am Captain Observantandcurious was watching the radar. A very fast boat sped at unimaginable knots from one distant boat to another, many miles away. He could not make sense of it. Then, he watched with much trepidation as the crazy fast boat zoomed straight for us. They reached Echoes at lightning speed, stopped about a hundred yards off to our stern and shut off their lights. It did not give Captain Ohshit a good feeling at all. There are pirates in the waters and Captain Hairstandinguponhisneck hailed the boat on the VHF. “Boat one hundred yards away with your lights off, this is the sailing vessel Echoes, state your intentions!” There was a long delay of silence and then the boat turned on its lights and sped off without a word. Days later we met a merchant marine and a treasure hunter who lived on their boats at Harbortown marina. They said that, unquestionably, it was the coast guard making their rounds on territorial seas to see who was coming and going late at night. They want to stay incognito. But they scare the shit out of you. These guys suggested that the next time it happens we we call a Sécurité, which is a maritime emergency call. They said call a Sécurité to all maritime vessels and give our exact coordinates and state that a boat with erratic behavior was following us. That, they said, will get rid of them in a hurry.

I have run out of adventure and am (you won’t believe me) running out of words. Echoes is securely held in a hurricane cradle at Harbortown Marina in Fort Pierce. It was hard to say goodbye to her. She feels like an extension of ourselves. We are slowly adapting back to the crazy pace and commercialism of the United States. However, we giggle endlessly as we pour scoops full of ice into our glasses filled with fresh, unsmelly water. We spend a tremendous amount of time on our large and comfortable toilets and standing under long, long, long hot showers. We are gaining whatever little weight we lost. I stand in the wine, produce and meat sections at the grocery store as if standing in front of a line of desperate, wanting men looking at me lustily… Cap’n Jack Sparrow, a younger Paul Newman, Jeff Bridges, Lenny Kravitz, Milo Ventimiglia, Brian Urlacher… and of course my Captain whom I always choose… but my point is that the abundant delicious choices available to us on a daily basis are staggering and mind boggling. I am not used to such bounty and convenience. I am reminded that we are blessed for it.

Captain Hasmyheartandmyback and I thank you for following along on our fumbling adventures. We are already dreaming up new plans for the Bahamas next year. Maybe it will be a little more comfortable? Maybe we will stay a little longer? We give you our gratitude for your enthusiasm, support and following. Until next year, may you find yourselves in fair winds and following seas.

Eleuthera, Until Next Time

I looked to the top of the mast to check my wind direction gauge to guide us into the wind as we set anchor. There, hovering above the mast was the eye of Zeus. Zeus is Poseidon’s brother and the god of the sky, as well as the god of gods. I have felt particularly close to Poseidon these last four sailing months. This visit from Zeus was an unexpected privilege. Even the gods find the mesmerizing blues and greens of the Bahamian seas something to behold and gaze at.

But for those of you poo pooers who don’t buy into my delusions so readily, this rainbow around the sun phenomena is called a sundog halo. It is produced by ice crystals in cirrostratus clouds three to six miles up in the troposphere. In ancient mariner times it was used as a weather prediction for an upcoming front.

The following particular front was a doozy. This video is of us at anchor in Rock Sound. The good part about storm fronts is that we open our water ports on deck and fill our tanks with fresh rain water. Our tanks in this storm filled quicker than you can say, batten down the hatches!

We are just leaving Eleuthera. We have visited some old favorite anchorages and settlements and have found some new favorites.

Governor’s Harbor is an old favorite that has a street party and fish fry every Friday night. We try our best to plan around it whenever we are nearby.

One of the highlights of this years’ fish fry is that we found out the group of young men, two in white t-shirts that you see in the limbo contest video, grew up with my oldest son and live in our hometown, Stillwater, Minnesota. I didn’t even know we had videoed them. Three of the guys went to our sons’ grade school and have been to our house. I know their moms. I didn’t recognize them as it has been years since I’ve seen them but serendipity put us next to each other at a restaurant the following day where we figured it out. One of the guys in particular stuck out in my memory from the night before as he was thoroughly enjoying his evening. Admittedly, I learned in the past that the rum bubbas they serve are stronger than they taste. I wisely forwent the bubbas this year.

Our new favorite place we discovered is Ten Bay.

It is a quiet little crescent moon beach anchorage with good protection and beautiful water.

Here, we had the honor of snorkeling with spotted eagle rays. The fish on top of the one ray is a Remora. Remoras are also known as suckerfish as they attach themselves to larger fish, whales and occasionally divers and boats, to hitchhike a free ride. I don’t know what the fish below the ray is.

Ray and Ramona Eagle Ray had about a four foot wingspan. Eagle Rays can grow up to sixteen feet.

We loved Ten Bay so much that Captain Nowdisisduhtingmun doubled back to it on the way back north.

Why didn’t I mention Soul Divers being with us you ask? Because we had to go our separate ways. Matt, Sadie and their second mate Toby ventured to the Exumas and Captain Cryinhisbeertobereturning and I turned north to start our way back.

Have I told you about Toby?

Toby is a character. Toby yells. He will greet you as you board his ship with a MEOW!!! MEOW!!! In fact, his name is not Toby, it is TOBEEEEEEY!!! One tends to yell back at him. He and I have a thing. Or at least I have a thing for him. He has me wrapped around his paw. He will sit as close to his treat bag as possible and stare at me until I cave. He will paw at it and shoot me a shitty cat look if I take to long. MEOW!

We yell, TOBEEEEEYYYY!!!! as we dinghy back to our boat and he will come to the port and yell, MEOWW!!! He has pushy pawed two screens right out of the port windows and into the sea to never be seen again.

There are things that I’m good at and there are things that I am not. Goodbyes are not my strong suit. We shared a meal which started with twin appetisers. We both caught cero mackerels on our way to the anchorage.

We feasted on the twins that we named Mary Kate and Ashley. We ate them sashimi style.

Then we had steak and Sadie’s Mashed Potadies. My eyes leaked as we said goodbye. But Matt and Sadie cheered me up the following morning. As we pulled away from the anchorage they mooned us.

So, it is back to just the captain and I upon our long voyage home. We have enjoyed the trip back north through Eleuthera. And, we’ve noticed we tend to feel better in the mornings after nights when it is only the two of us. It is not as festive though and I already miss our friends terribly. Buddy boating has many benefits. It is always good to bounce navigation and weather observations off of each other. It is nice to have a friend to talk to. Plus it is plain fun.

Captain Conservativeandthorough and I do all kinds of things to preserve fresh water. I use a pitcher of salt water to flush my fresh water plumbed head. And, we do our initial dishes wash off the transom of the boat before a soapy then fresh water rinse. You never know what is going to come up to taste your scraps. The following picture is of a near cousin to the sea horse. This is Piper the pipefish. There were two and they were about four inches long. The top of the picture is her snout and the bottom her tail.

We are currently anchored off of Royal Island, near the northern tip of Eleuthera. Tomorrow we will sail the crossing back to the Abacos. It is about a fifty-five mile sail. I hope to see whales. I hope to have calm seas. But you never know what the weather and sea will bring.


Last year Sovereign Weather was a heavy handed ruler.  He pushed us along nearly every day to escape from his tempered breath.  He would blow manically from all directions chasing us in a zigzagged frenzy.  This year he has been kinder, particularly of late, and we are most grateful.  We are moving slowly and getting into the granularity of the Bahamas.  This suits us.

There are 700 Islands and 2,400 Cays in the Bahamas.  The difference between a Cay and an Island is that a Cay is a small island formed on the surface of a coral reef whereas an Island is a sub-continental land surrounded by water.  Thirty of the 700 Bahamian Islands are inhabited.  You see how much there is to explore?  It makes me childishly giddy.  We love to find small, forgotten and ignored Cays and, as Pokey Lafarge sings, Let’s Get Lost. 

There, lost at night, a riot of stars shine uninhibited all the way down the horizon.  They also reflect off of calm seas so that they surround and reach for you. You feel touched at your core and, too, begin to shine. It is worth every cold, brief shower, hand pump of the head, head butt with Captain Closeandconstant and, I can’t believe I’m saying this, terrifying grounding in shark infested water.

We have purposefully returned to quiet, overlooked Eleuthera. 
The locals pronounce it, Ee-loo-tra. There are hardly any marinas and so cruisers have to be self sufficient.  This makes it less convenient and sometimes difficult, so there are fewer cruisers here.   The people of Eleuthera are known throughout the Bahamas as the friendliest and most laid back of all of the Islands.  Their peaceful kindness and quick smiles are highly contagious. 

At the northern tip of Eleuthera is a fishing village called Spanish Wells where over eighty percent of Bahamian fish and lobster are caught.  

The locals take great pride in their homes and landscaping.  The creativity in yard décor is mind boggling. 

Their entire yard was filled with gardens of various sized jugs filled with colored water.

The main mode of transportation on land is golf cart.  The locals will pull up beside you for a friendly chat.  Our favorite such encounter was with a colorful eighty year old born and raised there.  We asked if he loved his Island as much as we did.  Is a bullfrog waterproof?  He replied in a rambling, hard to understand accented mumble.  Does Jimmy Carter like toothpaste?!   Does Bill Clinton like Monica Lewinsky? 

We fell in love with a restaurant/bar called Buddha’s where the food was awesome and the atmosphere was fun.  And the beer was cold.  What’s not to love?

Meeks Patch is a quiet Cay where we had an anchorage to ourselves. We settled in for a couple of relaxing  play days. Although Captain Ithinkbreaksthingssohecanfixthem had to restuff our stuffing box before joining us at the beach.

There was a swim with the pigs beach nearby that Sadie and I dinghied to. Captain Triestowearouthisfavoritesayings said, Da ting is dis! You can keep your damn dirty pigs to yourself.

The Exumas were the first to offer the tourists a chance to swim with the pigs and it has been so successful with tourists that pig beaches are showing up on other islands. We had no desire to swim with them as they aggressively pursue you for snackage. But it was fun to feed them a few carrots and fresh water.

A Tiger Shark’s jaw

This oinktrepreneur added ducks, geese, turkeys, a dog and two local kids who charged ten bucks a person to swim with their pigs. We didn’t bring money and they didn’t care if we enjoyed ourselves.

Even God has bad days

We moved south to anchor off of Current Cut which lives up to its name.  It can be treacherous in unsettled weather.  The current can be so fierce that it can push you furiously whichever way it chooses in wash machine waters onto its rocky walls.   I remember watching tentacles of Kraken grasping for us as we passed through their feeding grounds last year.  This year, we snorkeled a bit of the cut at slack tide.  Not a Kraken in site but lots of fish and turtles.

We made our way to anchor by the Glass Window.  It is a natural break in land between the raucous dark blue Atlantic Ocean and calm turquoise of the Bite of Eleuthera.  Last year there were two separate incidences of young men who died after being swept off of the bridge and rocks by a rogue wave.  Seven years ago a wave picked up the entire bridge and moved it three hundred yards during a hurricane.

Captain Datingisdis said he couldn’t be rushed through his morning routine and stayed on Echoes while Matt, Sadie and I explored the window and went for a long walk to see my baths that time made for me.

They were specflippingtacular.

We left the anchorage eager to put up our sails but knew as soon as we were underway that it was not going to happen.  The wind was on our nose as were the waves.  It was a chop slop sea that made for an uncomfortable ride and left me with a sore neck.

We were a bit dazed and discouraged after three hours of this constant beating with over an hour yet to go.  When we least expected it; we heard the rattattattattatta of the fishing line.  We slowed the boat and Captain Ohitsgoodtofeeltenyearsoldagain began the good fight.  I helmed and collected necessary equipment to land the fish.  He got it to the boat but needed help getting it on board.  I threw on some gloves and hand reeled the fish in by wrapping the line around one hand and then the other, back and forth, lifting as the fish fought.  We landed a most magnificent Mutton Snapper.  We have a scale on board and Baa Baa weighed close to eleven pounds.  We thanked him and then poured vodka in his gills to give him a peaceful passing.

A few hours later, Matt and Sadie came for dinner.  Sadie brought her famous garlic and onion Sadie’s Mashed Potadies.  We lightly floured Baa Baa and pan fried him in olive oil and butter.  With the pan scrapings I made a white wine butter sauce.  

When I buy meat at the grocery store I don’t readily associate it with a life given.  The gift of life is very obvious when you pull a great big beautiful fish from the sea and kill it.  We tasted Baa Baa’s chi.  This meal was flavored with gratitude. There is no better seasoning in the world. We ended up with two and a half pounds of filet.  We ate our fill and had leftovers.  Sadie also brought a homemade apple crisp that baked in the oven as we ate dinner.  It was a meal I will remember with a full heart for a very long time.

“Da ting is dis! Fish is excellent with eggs for breakfast.”

Revisiting some Favorites in the Abacos and then to Eleuthera

We hunkered down in Tilloo through a storm and then spent a day catching up on boat projects. We borrowed Sadie’s paddleboard and scrubbed the waterline of Echoes where algae grows. Afterward, I gave paddleboarding my first try and enjoyed it immensely.

We moved on to an east side anchorage off of Marsh Harbor. Sadie and I walked a roundtrip six and a half miles to the grocery and liquor stores with our heavy stores on our backs. Afterwards, we met up with the guys for cool one at the Boat Harbor Marina pool bar. In fact, it was the same pool bar that we hung out at with our boys twelve years ago after chartering in the Abacos.

And then it was back to magical Hopetown for a few days with a view from our anchorage to savor.

We climbed up to the top of the last working kerosene fueled lighthouse in the world. Two lighthouse attendants take shifts every two hours and climb the eighty nine feet to tend to the burner, twenty four hours a day.

We walked the island, did laundry and had fun with a trick on panoramic photos.

As the photographer slowly pans, once the person on the left is out of the frame, they run over to the right and catch the end of the pan.

Hopetown, Hopetown, how I love you so. If Eleuthera wasn’t calling me, I’d never want to go.

But Eleuthera was indeed calling and so we set out off to Lynyard Cay in preparation to cross the fifty-seven miles to Eleuthera. We settled in for an early night and watched boat after boat come through the cut and anchor around us. They were completing their sails from Eleuthera and elsewhere as others of us were getting ready to go. I counted twenty-three boats at rest that night.

We left at first light in a group of about seven boats. Two of those boat sailed with Soul Divers and us the whole way. The weather called for very little wind and calm seas. We were expecting to motor most of the ten to eleven hours. But the winds began to blow in the most friendly way and we hoisted our sails right out of the gate.

It was a passage like none other. The sails were as full as our hearts. The sun was kissing our cheeks and the fishing poles were bursting with hope. One of our companion sailboats caught the first lunker. He radioed, It’s a big one! I’m heaving to! And we hailed him congratulations and told him to let us know what he landed. It turned out to be a large sack of garbage. I counted twenty-seven times that I pulled sea grass off of our lure. Sometimes there were vast blankets of grass with birds resting on it.

We were in the Northeast Providence channel which is known for its abundant sea life. Soul Divers was in front of us. They hailed to say they spotted a pod of whales. And sure enough, we saw at a distance a pod of Blainville Beaked whales. Beaked whales are fourteen to sixteen feet long, and are brownish grey with a dorsal fin. They are the most common whale seen in these parts. The males at maturity have two teeth that protrude from the tops of their gums which they use like tusks to fight for the sweet meat of female whale heat.

A while later, Captain Didn’tgetskunked landed what we think was a black fin tuna. But he was too small and too cute to kill.

However, Soul Divers had better luck. Sadie went to her pole to let out some more line. As she got there she watched a fish dart at great speed to catch and swallow her bait. The fight began. Sadie strapped herself in with a safety harness and fought and fought until she won. She reeled in Emily the Mahi Mahi.

Male Mahi’s have a more bulbous head. That’s why we know she is Emily and not Elmer. Sadie immediately filleted her.

And finally, to round out a mostestest excellent day, the sailboat in the lead of our little floatilla hailed that she spotted a whale. I ran up on deck and watched for it with a frenzied gaze. At a distance of perhaps a quarter mile, probably less, but not thirty feet from Soul Diver’s boat we spotted the tell tale blow of a Sperm whale. Males are about sixty feet long, whereas females are about forty. I can’t tell you if it was male or female from the distance in which I saw it. I saw the hump of the whale’s back followed by a massive tail breaching the water. Even at a distance, it was a complete thrill. Soul Divers was in ecstasy. And this was the icing on the top of the story of the bestestest crossing ever.

But sailing is not all whale tails and mahi mahi named Emily. As I’ve said before, it is not easy to live with someone in this tight of quarters, especially someone with as big of a personality as Captain Livesboisterousboldandballsouttwentyfourseven. I completely lost my cool the other night. Over the course a few days it went something like this:
You are stepping on my toes. It hurts when you step on my toes. Please don’t step on my toes.
He steps on my toes.
I get upset when you step on my toes. You did it again. Please stop.
He steps on my toes.
What is it about stepping on my toes that you don’t understand? Stop it.
He steps on my toes.
Hey, barnacles for brains. Enough with the toe stepping!!!!
He steps on my toes.
He steps on my toes.
And I totally lost it, like a two year old having a melt down. I didn’t say much. What more was there that I could say? I just stomped around and wadded up paper napkins and hurled them at him. I threw a pillow and anything soft in my reach. Then I marched off to bed early and slammed the door. It wasn’t pretty. I didn’t handle it well and I am not proud of it. But boy oh boy does that man tee me off sometimes.

This is how I would imagine Captain Clueless would tell the story:
I don’t know what got into Candis. She totally freaked out the other night and I have no idea why. She has been going off lately about her ankles or feet or was it her heels? She walks soooo slow and she never looks where she’s going. You can’t help but bump into her every once in a while. I don’t mean to. I don’t know what the big deal is. Anyway, I don’t know if I bumped her or what but she went ballistic. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and then, right in front of my eyes, she shape shifted into an enormous Kraken. Her eyes were red and she groaned and waved her eight arms around. Ooh! It was ugly! Then she started wadding up paper napkins and throwing them at me. It looked like a one way snowball fight. And once she yelled in a high, shrill voice, TOES! I don’t know why. And once in a deep rumbling voice, TOOOEEESS! And spittle flew out her mouth and snot flew out her nose. And then she threw a foam coaster at me and stormed off to bed. Out of the blue! Completely bonkers! I’m just going to give her a wide berth for a couple of days.

Hopetown, Sandy Cay and Tilloo Cay

Hopetown is a deservingly popular destination in the Abacos. I felt like a Disney princess dinghying by the candy striped lighthouse surrounded by giggling sailboats. I almost broke out in song. Cheery music chimed from a church speaker as we climbed up the dinghy dock ladder . The houses are brightly and neatly painted and there are quaint shops and, as there should be in magic land, there is a wine bar, Wine Down, Sip, Sip, where I partook in a chilled glass of Rose.

We rounded off the night with a fantastic dinner. Last year I lost weight while sailing. This year I think I’m gaining. I keep pestering Sadie to start a food blog. It is amazing what she and Matt can pull out of their limited resources and equipment. We have recently had Carnitas El Pastor with homemade tortillas, Margarita pizza on homemade crust with fresh mozzarella and bay leaves, and an Asian night smorgeshbourg that could satisfy a king. In fact it did, and a sea princess. Soul Divers is my new favorite restaurant. And it’s free!

Beef pho in the cups, fried wontons, pork spring rolls, chinese bbq grilled pork, vegetable fried rice, salad with homemade ginger carrot dressing and all the favorite dipping sauces.

We had a couple of days forecasted with the perfect becalmed weather to enjoy a sea park with a renowned protected reef. Captain Smittenasakitten and I were a little reluctant to leave magical Hopetown so soon but we plan to return and linger there a spell. Off we went about thirteen miles south to Sandy Cay.

Sandy Cay was all about the water. Matt and Sadie dove and Captain Thatsalotofwork and I decided to snorkel it. Sadie took some beautiful pictures.

From there we moved on to Tilloo where I am writing to you from a spinning, howling, complaining boat amidst an all day storm that is not supposed to tire herself out until the wee hours. There have been reports of a water spout five miles away. Water spouts are little, mini tornadoes. I saw one last year with my very own eyes. They are mysterious and mesmerizingly beautiful as they arc from the clouds and dance all wiggly waggly tossing up the sea. Even Kraken beware.

Waterspout compliments of Dr Google Free Waterspout search

We have had dishes fall out of cupboards and unsecured items fall off of counters and tables. Wind gusts have exceeded 40 mph. Yesterday, we wisely snuggled into a protected bay off of Tilloo Cay in preparation for this blow. Captain Manhandlesher gave B.P. a good drop and snub and I backed down on her to set her vicious bite into the sand below. We and Soul Divers have lookie buckets. This is a simple bucket with a clear bottom that you use as an underwater viewer. Matt and Sadie came by after checking their anchor to check on ours for us. Only one of B.P.’s teeth were set in the sand so Captain Giveherhell threw Echoes in reverse as our friends watched B.P. dig in hard. As much as I detest that rusty, scary, feisty BIG B.P. I appreciate her tenacity on a day like today.

This is B.P. dug in with a lazy chain on a calm, clear day in Hopetown. She is in about thirteen feet of water. The chain was straight off the bow and tight when she was set but the winds calmed overnight and we woke up right on top of her.

Tilloo Cay is protected from the brothers Wind, North and East, who seem to be more than a bit peeved at the moment. To me though, this storm feels more like a scorned woman Wind than the brothers Wind. Why? Because she is long winded and has dug in her heels unwilling to let her grievances go. Male storms, indulge me now, are fiercer but much, much shorter. Boom! Crackle! And then the sun shines and you go about your day. I’m not speaking personally, of course not, I’m just a student of human nature after all.

This one is for my high school besties. Happy Birthday, Monica!

There are Kraken out there feeding off this scorned windy tempest like a shark drawn to bloodied, wounded tuna. I’ve heard a bit about improperly tethered dinghys and dragging anchors on the VHF but, gratefully, there have been nary a tentacle sighting from our little sailboat cocoon where I sit bobbing with a good book as Captain
BuonAppetito adds spicy Italians to spaghetti sauce on the gimbaled stove.

The water quality in the U.S. tops its acceptability rating at 500 or less parts per million. World standards are acceptable at 1000 parts per million. We have filled our tanks with anything from 800 to 1700 ppm since we’ve been in the Bahamas. We thought I may have cross threaded a deck fill port and tainted our water with sea water but the more water we buy the more alarming the ppm. So, not only are we thrilled to save the thirty-five to forty cents per gallon for water but rain water captured is by far the cleanest water we’ve had, including Florida’s. This rain water tests at 240 ppm. You can clearly taste the difference. I’ve been guzzling rain water like fine wine. Our one hundred and ten gallon tanks are full to the brim.
In the following video we are anchored and not moving at sea. At the end of the video you can see how Captain Rightasrain captures the rain by creating a dam with a winch handle wrapped in a clean towel.

We live by the commands of Sovereign Weather. We will wait here for the scorned woman Wind to fully express her fury. She is forecasted to blow for about eight hours and then leave us with clouds and some tears for a day or two. No worries. She gives me time to play with words.

Cracked lips
Wind whipped
A shower both short and icy
Life giving books instead of TV
Stars bright
Background music, my captain, and me
Wine soaked head
Time for bed
To dream of full sails at sea

Man-O-War Cay and Marsh Harbor, Abacos

Man-O-War is a quiet, charming, proud little island with a rich history. It is one of the first Loyalist settlements in the Bahamas inhabited by British sympathisers that fled the U.S. after the Revolutionary war. Man-O-War is best known for its long tradition of boat building.

And they are still building beautiful boats today.

There is some famous artistry here. Joe Albury carves beautiful wooden ships as his father did before him. We enjoyed chatting with him at his studio. My parents bought one of Joe’s pieces many years ago. It was fun to see first hand where it came from and walk in their shoes, or flip flops.

Albury’s Sail Shop has been in business for three generations. They make all kinds of bags and canvas goods and sew as you shop. We use a bag my mom bought there for the climbing gear for the mast.

There is a tradition in the cruising world to blow a conch shell just as the sun sets over the horizon to say goodbye and thank you to the sun. It is common to hear a chorus of conch horns at an anchorage. We’ve wanted one for a while and I finally found the perfect conch at Gramp’s Conch stand. It was twelve dollars.

That night Captain Fullofhotair gave it a try. Hopefully, I will be able to show you his improvement in the future. I fair a little better as I played french horn for many years in my youth.

Man-O-War should have been named Man-O-Peace.

Speaking of peace, they really know how to rest at peace. We found a fascinating cemetery. I particularly loved Arlene’s zest for life.

We moved on to Marsh Harbor for several days. We spent a night anchored outside the harbor by a little protected reef called Mermaid Reef. Matt, Sadie and I went snorkeling in the morning. Captain Youcan’trushmothernatureorthecaptain hung out at the boat. Sadie took some awesome pictures for me. (She also took the panoramic shot of me at the top of the post.)

We saw some great fish including one of my favorites, the little striped fellow called a Sergeant Major who I will name Cannon. Why did I name him Cannon? I’m so glad you asked. Because my youngest son, Cannon, was recently promoted to Sergeant in the Army National Guard!

Marsh Harbor is the commercial center of the Abacos. Here we bought a new generator, found miscellaneous hardware we have been hunting for and resupplied some libations. We stocked up on curry paste and fun goodies at a local Thai store and bought local truffle infused sea salt which we put on our popcorn. Oh my. We also checked out a boatyard where we can leave Echoes in a hurricane cradle until next season if we choose to do so.

Hurricane Cradle

I am happy to report that the Kraken have been quiet and tame. I’ve seen a few tentacles and an old feeble Kraken tried to spin us in a fairway while docking, but it has been a nice reprieve from their presence.

Cruising is not all Pineapple Smashes and sunsets. Living within forty feet of one another is challenging for any marriage. The yahoo that I’ve been married to for thirty years makes life quite interesting. Cruising can be taxing, although we continue to learn and make improvements. We thought you might enjoy seeing a walkthrough of our humble aboate to get an idea of our amenities or lack thereof.

Manjack, Green Turtle and Treasure Cay, Abacos

Let me tell you about my most favorite day. We had a smile producing sail to Manjack Cay (pronounced Munjack and also know as Nunjack.) It is a private island but the few people who live on it graciously welcome cruisers on their land.

We set B.P. and headed in with Matt and Sadie to hike the Art Trail. This trail through the woods from beach to beach is about a half mile long and is filled with lots of art made by the cruisers. Everyone is encouraged to participate and display their inspirations. There is a secret code, written backwards and therefore has to be read by mirror, that encourages you to join in the art fun.

Some are simple pieces and others are quite elaborate. I love art and used to manage art galleries so this is right up my happy alley. Art tells its own story to each individual in its own way. And it doesn’t even have to be “good.” There was “good” and “bad” art and it was all good.

After the Art Trail we took another long walk to a desolate beach where we went looking for reef life in hopes to return with snorkel gear. Almost fifteen years ago Captain IthinkIcoulddothisforever and I chartered a sailboat in the Abacos with our sons. We did some of the best snorkeling and diving of our lives. On our trip in the Bahamas last year and again in the Abacos this year we have witnessed how the warming of the sea has bleached and killed the coral reefs along the shores. It is a graveyard out there. Where we swam in the largest schools of fish imaginable and with gigantic manta rays is now a bleached white ghost town. But enough with the sad when I’m telling you about my bestest day.

After our beach walk we dinghied back to the motherships to fill our coolers with cold beer and Pineapple Smashes. Then we went gunkholing with fishing poles back in miles of quiet mangroves.

Matt and Sadie by an abandoned wrecked sailboat in the mangroves at Manjack

Captain Shucks caught a couple of barracuda and a slight buzz. There must have been a turtle convention as they were popping up their bald heads like bubbles in a champagne glass. So many turtles! We also saw shark and eagle rays.

Red Legged Thrush posing next to a piece of art

We rounded off the perfect day with Sadie and Matt’s most famous homemade tamales, spanish rice and refried beans with all of the mouthwatering fixings. And a good night’s sleep at a calm anchorage ended my mostest excellent day.

We moved on to Green Turtle Cay where we picked up a small generator. Echoes is a hard thing to keep in balanced harmony. Our happiness producing new portable freezer sucks the joy juice right out of our batteries. We have woken up to dead batteries more than once. Our solar panels cannot keep up with our frozen meat wonderland. Unfortunately, neither could the new small generator so we will have to find a bigger one. Captain Notsogrinchy donated it to his favorite marina office worker’s church and was told her Pastor will say a blessing for him at church this Sunday. I do believe this is a first. I will let you know if there is any behavioural changes.

Green Turtle Cay is charming and friendly. It also is where the Pineapple Smash was created at a local beachside bar called Pineapples. We partook in the original Smash and enjoyed the town.

We traveled on to Treasure Cay where we spent a night bumping around on an anchorage. We bid farewell to Soul Divers for a few days.
Soul Divers is far more self sufficient. They have a larger boat filled with goodies unimaginable, a large generator for all the power you could want and a water maker that makes better water from seawater than we can buy at the marinas for thirty-five cents a gallon. They even have an ice maker. Our remaining fifty gallons of water were tainted. We have a water tester to check for such things. We think we must have took on some seawater through a cross-threaded fill cap. Who would lack such attention to detail? Eye troooly dunt no.

Martin the eight foot Tarpon who hung out by Echoes at Treasure Cay Marina

The winds were causing a ruckus so it was a perfect time to duck into a marina on Treasure Cay to spend a couple of nights and get things ship shape again.

Treasure Cay has a world famous, beautiful beach where we tried to walk off all of the scrumptious food and bakery that is also a treasure there.

We let the wind blow, got some chores done and enjoyed the pleasures of the island and soft marina life before it was time to move on again.

To West End and then, the Abacos!

We left Bimini Sands Marina early in the morning and headed north for a sixty-three-mile sail to West End, Grand Bahama.  The seas were predicted at three feet with nine-second intervals.  This means that on average the waves would hit us every nine seconds and be three feet tall, but four to six-foot waves would not be uncommon.  We butted heads with quite a plethora of six-footers as we crossed the New Providence Channel for a few hours.  Then it went back to average as we reached West End over ten hours after departure.  We made good time sailing in frisky wind at close to Echoe’s top speed going over seven knots.

The West End marina had closed the week before our arrival.  We decided to anchor in a notoriously uncomfortable but safe (good holding) anchorage due to our arrival at low tide and other tedious reasons.  You could not leave a glass of water on the counter or the swells would knock it over.  The dishes were rattling in the cabinets along with our nerves.  We had not eaten in eight hours and for dinner, I had a piece of white bread and Captain Where’sthebeef? had a few chips.  That may help paint the picture.  Neither of us slept as the waves rolled us over in bed.  Next time, we will choose the “poor holding” calmer anchorage and set the anchor alarm and/or take sleep shifts if need be, or possibly just keep on going through the night.  Sail and learn.

The next morning we impatiently waited for a rising tide to navigate through the skinny (shallow) Good Will Channel.  Once clear of the channel we hoisted the sails and had a glorious eight-hour sail on settled seas under a sunny, smiling sky all the way to Great Sale Cay.  THIS!  I screamed pumping both fists in the air, THIS is what I signed up for! 

Much of navigating through the Bahamas is by watching the water for obstacles as the sea floor is ever changing and navigation is not well marked. We approached a football-sized white sandy area and were worried it was an unmarked shoal. We were surprised to find there wasn’t a change in depth at all. We later found out that the Little Bahama Bank is known for these huge sandy areas that are the mysterious Fish Muds. The most common theory of their occurrence is that they are created by gimongous schools of bottom-feeding fish.

A large and satisfying dinner at a calm anchorage was followed by a large and satisfying night’s sleep and a calm sea princess.   I awoke my old, feeling young self and we set sail again in perfect conditions for a six-hour sail to Allans-Pensacola Cay in the northern Abacos.

To my email followers: videos do not come through with the blog email. Click on the blog title in the email and it will take you to the blog website where you can watch the videos.

Refreshed and optimistic, Captain Sometimessmellsandactsfishy told me to text our good boat buddies on Soul Divers to tell them we would meet them that afternoon at Allans Cay with fresh sashimi (raw fish).  He skipped around the cockpit like a school girl and let out his line.  A couple hours later the telltale whine of the reel went rattattattatta.  It is very hard to catch fish when sailing as it is difficult to slow Echoes down when she has a bone in her teeth and two full sails pushing her along.  He lost the fish but fought it well.  The hook was bent ninety degrees when he reeled it in.  A new lure and an hour later the next fish spit the lure.  Third time’s a charm.  Captain Giddydanceypants reeled in a small but big enough Cero Mackerel.  He beat it on the head with a winch handle to kill it and the cockpit was covered in blood and fish guts like a scene from a horror movie.  We will be buying cheap booze to kill them with the next time. He immediately cleaned Macky and put him in the fridge.

Three hours later we were anchored next to our buddies on Allans Cay in the Abacos. I can’t quite explain what a joyous milestone this felt like. Soul Divers’ Matt and Sadie dinghied over with Sadie’s alchemist perfected Pineapple Smash.

Pineapple Smash: 1 Cup Barcardi Gold, 1/2 Cup Pineapple Rum, 1/2 Cup Coconut Rum, and Pineapple juice to your liking – but don’t overdo it on the juice as it is best strong.

We had an enthusiastic toast to the magic of the sea and friendship and then gobbled up the sashimi. It was delicious. Matt and Sadie had us over that night for a great meal of kielbasa and lentils.

The weather was PMSing so we spent a couple of days relaxing and walking the beaches of the uninhabited island.

There is a “signing tree” on the Atlantic side of Allans where cruisers leave various stuffnstuff with their boat names on it.

After a couple of days, we moved on to Crab Cay/Angelfish Point to anchor in another quiet bay and enjoy the peace and beauty of the northern Abacos. Sadie and I went beachcombing and gunkholing while Matt and John went fishing. Can you imagine how glorious it was to be that far from our spouses? I’m not sure you can. Matt caught a barracuda but they can carry a disease called ciguatera so he tossed it back.

Today we are to off Manjack Cay to do what we love to do best, sail, explore, fish, create beautiful food, get giggly, play games, make fun of each other and plan the next adventure.

Stillll in Bimini Sands Marina

Captain I’mbeginingtoblamehim noticed something disturbing as he lay cramped and sweating on his belly fixing the steering. One does not normally clear out all of the lazarettes and squeeze oneself in its far most corners, but there he was adjusting steering cables when he came face to face with a compromised exhaust hose. It was cracked, old and rusted, not unlike myself. It wouldn’t be prudent to move on knowing we had this problem.

Back to the phone we went searching for parts and the best way to receive them. The hose wasn’t available in Freeport or Nassau (the larger industrial boatyard locations) but we found one on March Harbor, Abacos. Funny, that is where we are trying to get to. What costs sixteen dollars a foot at West Marine we found for thirty-nine dollars a foot in Marsh Harbor. We needed fifteen feet. We decided to pay the outrageous seven hundred dollars total to have the parts shipped from a Bahamas marine supplier to avoid having it get hung up in customs for days and days like the last fiasco. We ordered it on a Thursday and it was supposed to come in on the last plane the following day.

I’m sure it is not surprising to hear that it did not show up. And to spare you much minutia, our parts had been accidentally and mysteriously flown to Georgetown in the Exumas, two hundred and fifty miles south. They eventually flew the parts, in a roundabout fashion, to South Bimini five days later than expected. Fat Boy, the bus driver, delivered them to us for ten bucks. Installation went well with only a few head bruises and scrapes and a significant loss of water weight. It was hot in the hell hole. And we are finally (dare I say it?) ready to go. But then, the weather thought not. So here we are, stillll.

This is a most awesome human being named Sean. Our mutual friends on Soul Divers told us to find him as he was in Bimini Sands Marina as well. He is single handling his 42-foot Sailboat from Canada to Grenada. And then, who knows? What I love most about Sean is that he frequently leaves Captain Hasananswertoeverything speechless with his dry humor.

In the meantime, we have met many awesome locals and boaters from all over the world including Sweden, Central America, Australia, Ukraine, and Minnesota. Unfortunately, we have also been frequently, repeatedly and intimately introduced to mosquitos and noseeums like the plague. I am lumpy, jumpy, grumpy, twitchy, itchy and bitchy.

We have been to the beach, lazed around the infinity pool, rented bicycles, and have shared multiple libations and song with fellow boaters. Off-key singing is even encouraged. Plus, we have our very own aquarium outside our door. It is a good life after all.

Lunchtime for Professor Dudley Pufferfish. And note the area by John’s hat where the cleat used to be until my great guns and pony keg abs pulled it out.

Below is a video of Kelly Jelly the little jellyfish with a lot of names; Upside-Down Jellyfish, Mangrove Jellyfish, Cabbage Jellyfish, and Many-Mouthed Jellyfish. She has no brain nor heart but a lot of mouth, not unlike my Captain. She usually lives upside down on the bottom of the shallows. She has a symbiotic relationship with photosynthetic algae so she lays upside down to get enough sunlight to produce her light loving algae food friends. It is not uncommon for fish to hide and sometimes live in jellyfish. I don’t know if that is what the fish are doing in this video, or maybe they like to munch on the same algae that the Kelly Jelly is growing for herself.


We have been in South Bimini for over three weeks. Tomorrow the weather gods have blessed us with a worthy window. We are leaving at first light to sail sixty-three miles north to West End, Grand Bahama. The You’reasailornotaprincess gods (they are so disillusioned) are having a good laugh at me as the five-star marina I’ve been dreaming about for three weeks closed their doors and docks last week. I can’t say that Captain Crustymoldywallet was as disappointed as I was. But, we are gloriously happy to be on our way and are days (hopefully!) away to meeting up with Sadie, Matt, and meowy Toby on Soul Divers. Homemade tamales and Pineapple Smashes with our bestie boat buddies trump any stupid five-star marina. Get cookin’ ye everything delicious alchemist, Sadie, we’re coming!

Bimini Sands Marina

Nine days after ordering our steering parts “express” we received a call that they had arrived by plane to South Bimini (where we were anchored off of) but were delivered to a shipping agent on North Bimini.  So, we dinghied to land, walked two miles and caught a ferry over to North Bimini to meet Pedro at the North Bimini ferry dock.  After an hour of waiting and asking around, Pedro the garbage man stopped by in his fully loaded garbage truck to hand off our prize package.  Locals wear many hats.

Back to the anchorage we went and installation began immediately.  What Captain Notoriouslyunderestimatestime thought would be a three-hour project took probably ten.  In all fairness, modifications had to be made to adjust a modern part to a twenty-three-year-old boat.  He did a great job.

It had been nine nights, ten days and an entire bottle’s worth of Alka-Seltzer chewables on this roly-poly, quiet anchorage.  Mostly, we spent the time with logistics and prepping the enormous steering project.  Captain Tossalineinsteadofhiscookies did fish a bit.  Not much was around.  He has a chum bag that he fills with last night’s dinner waste.  He drops it over the boat on a tether to attract the fish and then throws a line out.  The chum bag attracted two Queen Triggerfish.  Triggerfish are intelligent creatures.  They usually eat slow invertebrates, like sea urchin.  They are notoriously hard to catch because of their tiny mouths, strong jaws and skin like armor.  Most fishermen spear them.  They are delicious.  These two stinkers would swim up and chew all the goodies right through the little holes of the chum bag.  (They don’t like spinach.)  Then they would nibble at the tails of artificial bate at the end of Captain Ohcomeon’s line.  I became enamored with them.  Then they became my pets.  Then they became off limits as fair fishing game.  They hung out by the boat and I fed them every day.  Other than a successful installation and renewed steerage, they were the best part of that week and a half.

Photo credit Dr. Google Free Triggerfish image

The steering cable, plate, and chain were installed in very tight quarters, with very strong language and very much effort.  It was a race against the weather that we won.  Had the installation gone more smoothly we were going to use the calm weather window to sail to a five-star marina at West End, Grand Bahama, sixty miles away.  But since it turned into a two-day project, we needed to tuck into a marina around the corner on South Bimini, two miles away, before the winds came.  Up went B.P. and off we went steering in crazy squiggles for the joy of it and to test it. 

Unfortunately, we had to follow our tracks over the exact spot where we grounded and did the damaging battle with the mighty Kraken.  The seas were far more settled but still, I was nauseous and spooked.   As cool as Captain Cucumber is, I could tell he was feeling it, too.   We were jumpy.  I stood on the foredeck visually sighting and Captain Easynow helmed right over that quadrant of the sea that I will never forget in my life.  We successfully passed it and crept into the cut to the marina with six inches under us and hearts pounding.  First, we fueled up and then we went to tuck into a dock.  Not my favorite activities.  I was gazing at my wits’ end even though things were going well. 

We grounded about where those breakers are.

There was no one to help us with the lines for docking so I had to jump off the boat and onto the dock with the docking lines and secure them quickly.  I jumped off of Echoes with a midship line in my right hand and the bowline in my left.  I singled up the midship line on the first cleat on the dock and pulled the line tight and hard to help slow and secure the 22,000-pound fat ass boat.  Much to my great surprise, I ripped the cleat right out of the dock.  This sent me flying backward and fairly high into the air.  I flew inelegantly across the dock and into the sea with an enormous splash and quite a bit of seawater up my nose.  I at least had enough wits left to save my expensive prescription sunglasses.  A fellow boater came to our rescue and checked first to see if I was ok, which I was, and then to secure the boat.  I floated with a hand on the dock as there were no ladders to climb out on and I could not pull myself up.  The man said calmly as he worked the lines, “Now don’t be alarmed if you see a shark as I saw a nurse shark a short time ago.  All he will want is to be petted.”  I have scuba dove with nurse sharks in the past and know they are harmless.  It was more the bull, lemon, and hammerheads that I spoke of in the previous post that were running through my mind. 

With the boat secure, Captain Giggling (I’m sure it was a funny sight to see) shut off the engine and lowered Echoe’s ladder for me.  I climbed out dripping sea water and snot and this is when Captain Thatpartofthebodywherewasteiseliminated made his terrible mistake.  He began one of his long, technical “teaching moments” on how I should have noticed the rust on the cleat’s bolt and chose the next one down.  What he didn’t know, that I pointed out to him, was that if I had followed his advice, Echoes’ nose would have been three feet deep in the concrete dock.  But he must not have heard me and it did not deter him from a long dissertation on brittle compounds and staying alert. I interrupted him sharply to put an end to the speech.  I expressed my feelings more fully to Captain Don’tpushyourluckbuddy in private later that evening. 

This is Nicholas Sharks taking a snooze in the foreground.

The winter weekly rate at Bimini Sands Marina is $100.00 for a week.   That is the cheapest we have ever come by. By comparison, the five-star marina I wanted to go to would have been $250.00 a night.  But I bet they have handsome dock hands and that their cleats don’t pop.  None the less, we are happily and lazily regrouping.  The winds are blowing.  Let them.  We will stay here snugly until we have a most perfect weather window to venture the next sixty miles to West End. 

This is John’s hand next to a local’s we met at the Thirsty Turtle. Captain Alwayssowitty said, I bet my doinky doink (or something like that) is bigger. He replied, Not a chance, mon.

I know I have been wordily indulgent but my mom likes my stories.  So here is a very fishy story.

Trip and Pulltha Triggerfish had been married for many years.  They lived in a reef near the cold Atlantic and hunted in the adjacent bay during the day.  One day, a huge, strange, sea creature came to rest in their bay.  Behind the creature was a bag full of delicious delicacies.  How fortunate that the tiny holes in the bag were too small for other fish but just the right size for Trip and Pulltha’s teeny tiny mouths.  It was like having free, fine dining in their backyard.  They visited the creature several times every day.  Eventually, the creature stopped sending out the bag but began to poop out new scrumptious morsels like shrimp tails whenever they swam close.  This was even easier and better.  Num, num, num!  But then a day came when the sea creature slowly swam away.  They missed their sea creature very much.

Much to Trip and Pulltha Triggerfish’s glee, another huge, strange sea creature came to rest in their bay.  They quickly swam over to the creature and waited for it to provide a bag or poop.  Sure enough!  The creature pooped out a small piece of shrimp.  Trip, being the faster of the two, swam over and opened his tiny mouth as wide as he could and swallowed the shrimp whole.  But that is not all he swallowed.  Hiding inside the shrimp was a hook that lodged into his belly.

Pulltha watched with fascinated horror as Trip thrashed and struggled only to disappear up into the sky above the creature.  She shuddered a bit and sped away to safety.  Then a slow and wry smile began to play at her lips. Trip had been an abusive bully and also made her sleep in the cold Atlantic where she shivered every night.  She swam toward the warmer bay shallows with a wiggle in her tail.

When she found the temperature that suited her she began to search for a nice hidey hole to call home.  She spied a narrow door that led into a dim coral cave.  She entered enthusiastically and yelped in surprise when she bumped into a napping, strapping, dapper Triggerfish named Happy.  Startled, he opened his eyes wide.  Well, pinch me.  Am I still dreaming?  He said.  For you are even more stunning in reality than in my dreams!  This made Pulltha blush an even more beautiful blue as she smiled an enormous smile with her teeny tiny mouth.

And they lived happily ever after.

The end.