FISH-HEAD SOUP

Nassau is fun, even in the rain. It rained, no...it poured, all day yesterday (Monday, Dec. 1st). We had breakfast, did the dishes, then donned our bright yellow fowlies and headed out for some sightseeing.

Our marina is across the street from a shopping area. We wandered past all the stores, but most didn't open until 9:30 a.m. (remember...it's the Bahamas). So, partly to get out of the heavy rain, we hailed one of the jitneys that ply the streets of Nassau. The jitneys are actually large vans with regular routes, and for $1.25 you can go anywhere in Nassau.

Each jitney has it's own personality, dictated by the driver. Our driver liked reggae music and he liked it LOUD! It made you want to get up in the aisles and dance. We saw the east end of the island, away from the touristy areas, and got a good idea how the locals live. We didn't see the abject poverty that we saw in Puerto Rico or Quito, but Nassau could use some work on its solid waste disposal system. Lots of trash strewn around.

Our route also took us through the historic section of town. I want to go back and explore that on foot. At one of the stops downtown, 16 DePaul students and their teacher boarded our jitney. They were having a great time and the rain didn't seem to be bothering them, either.

We had the driver drop us off at the dock where the fishing boats tied up to unload their catch. We wandered through the stalls, each one painted a combination of bright colors. They offered conch served numerous ways, including ceviche, chowder, fritters, and stew. You could also buy bags of fresh-caught snapper and grouper and whole spiney lobsters.

We had arranged to meet our friends Mac and Shirley at a restaurant called Double D's, near the dock. It was highly recommended by a dock hand at the marina for it's authentic Bahamaian food at reasonable prices. We found the restaurant and tried the door, but it was locked. We heard a buzzer and tried the door again, which now opened. (We never did determine how they decided who could enter and who couldn't.)

Double D's was a large, poorly lit bar. One patron in back was drinking a Kalik (local beer), smoking a cigar and watching Barak Obama's TV press conference announcing his appointment of Hillary Clinton as secretary of state. A young man near the front was watching a rerun of Jurassic Park. We were the only other customers. Mac and Shirley had not yet arrived, so we ordered some conch fritters and a cold Kalik (me) while we waited.

They arrived a few minutes later, soaking wet from the downpour. We all began to look at the menu in earnest. The house specialties included fish head soup, sheep's tongue souse, conch souse, sheep's tongue stew, and chicken souse. You could also order barbequed ribs, roasted chicken, and grouper served various ways. Quite a menu for a bar!

The fish head soup intrigued me. After I determined from the waitress that the soup would not contain any fish eyes staring back at me, I decided to go for it. It was chunks of grouper heads in a flavorful broth that had just enough spicy taste to require a second cold Kalik. Actually, it was delicious and I would order it again.

Today the rain is gone and the sun has returned. It's still too windy outside the harbor for a comfortable trip south, but we're hopeful that we can leave by Thursday.

Phil has spent the morning trying to find and patch a hole in our dinghy. One side had deflated over the last few days. He had to remove the incredibly heavy outboard motor, then maneuver the sagging dinghy around the corner from the marina to an area where he could beach it and patch the leak. My morning's accomplishment was a simple load of laundry.

After the dinghy is repaired, we'll probably take another jitney ride to see the rest of the island and explore the downtown area.

WE MADE IT TO THE BAHAMAS, MON!

Just after dawn on the day after Thanksgiving, we started the engines on Sunshine, raised the anchor, and motor-sailed out into the Atlantic, headed for Nassau.

We had waited several days for the weather to be calm enough for us to safely cross the Gulf Stream. Our weather window looked good for two to three days.

The Gulf Stream is a deep, wide river of water off the southeastern U.S. coast, with north-moving currents up to four knots. Ships heading north use the current to speed them along. Sailors like us, with relatively small boats, try to avoid crossing the Gulf Stream when strong opposing winds from the north can kick up mammoth waves.

Therefore, wise sailors wait until there are no North winds in the forecast. Any winds under ten knots from the south, southeast or southwest will usually give you a calm crossing. And that's what we had.

Once you enter the Gulf Stream, which this day began about four miles off the coast of Florida, the water turns a deep violet blue. As we traveled along, we spotted large jelly fish pulsating in the water. Creatures that looked like bubbles floated on top of the water. Perhaps they were another type of jelly fish. At times, the surface of the water was smooth. At other times, there was just the hint of waves. It was a beautiful day. The word that best describes our Gulf Stream crossing was "uneventful."

We approached the Bimini Islands about 3:00 p.m. Our course led us through a small cut between Gun Cay (cay is pronounced "key" in the Bahamas) and Cat Cay. (We didn't see any guns or any cats.) Once through the cut, the 2,500 ft. depth immediately changed to 10 feet of beautiful gin-clear, aquamarine water. In fact, it was so clear that we had to keep checking our depth sounder to convince ourselves it was actually ten feet deep and not two or three.

This was the Bahama Banks, the beautiful shallow sea of the Bahama Islands. We steered a careful course to make sure we stayed within the deeper channel. It would have been easy to go aground just a few yards outside the channel. But the course was relatively straight and, with the help of our chart plotter and auto pilot, we kept moving.

As the sun set, we watched for the famous "green flash" that people report seeing just as the sun sinks below the horizon (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Green_flash). We saw none, but Mac on Cat's Paw claimed he saw one. We'll keep trying every day until we have seen it.

Soon it was dark. Pitch black. The no-moon kind of dark. We traveled on through the night, following the light on Cat's Paw and carefully checking our course on the chart plotter. We also kept our eye on our radar screen to keep track of other boats in the area.

I discovered that depth perception, at least for me, is non-existent in the dark. With no land masses or structures as points of reference, it was difficult for me to tell whether a light was 20 feet away or two miles away. It was also difficult to tell if the light was moving or still. I may get used to night crossings, but it's going to take a while.

We had something that passed for dinner, but I don't even remember the menu. One of us ate while the other drove, then we switched and the driver ate. Late in the evening, we made a pot of coffee. We each took turns trying to nap, but one hour each was the best we could do.

About 2:30 a.m. we reached the end of the Bahamas Banks and the beginning of the Tongue of the Ocean, a 45-mile wide channel of deep water (4,500 ft) running north and south through the middle of the Bahama Islands. Where the Tongue of the Ocean met the shallow Bahama Banks, the waves were much stronger. At the same time, the winds had increased to about 15 knots, much greater than the 5-10 knot winds that were forecast.

Soon, it became rough enough that we had to hold tight when we moved around the boat. We couldn't see the wave action in the dark, but we could feel as the rocking horse movement began to increase. Even sitting at the helm, we had to hang on to keep from getting pitched out of the chair.

The rising sun around 6:00 a.m. was a welcome sight. Being able to see our surroundings lowered our stress level. We might as well have been in the middle of the Atlantic because we couldn't see land in any direction. We had been traveling 24 hours at this point and had another eight hours to reach Nassau.

The last 50 miles seemed to take forever. It was around 11:00 a.m. when we finally spotted New Providence Island in the distance, but it took another two hours to reach Nassau Harbor.

Once inside the harbor the winds calmed and the turbulence stopped. We glided past cruise ships and resorts. Hundreds of people were lined up to board a Carnival cruise ship. Young people on jet skis zoomed around the harbor, sometimes cutting recklessly close to our boat. The weather was beautiful and the water was the same clear blue-green that we saw on the Bahama Banks.

We followed Cat's Paw to a marina where we had reservations and within a few minutes both Cat's Paw and Sunshine were securely tied in our slips. We were not allowed to leave the boat until customs and immigration authorities had visited our boats, which happened within an hour.

This trip has been our most challenging experience so far and we are glad to have it completed. We are pleased to have made the trip, but I've decided that overnight crossings are my least favorite aspect of cruising. I would like to reserve them for times when we have no other option.

It's good to know that folks our age can actually remain awake and functioning for 31 hours straight. I do know that we were exhausted when we got here. We slept for 12 hours last night and are still not very energetic today. I'm hoping we'll be back to normal by tomorrow.

Today's activity consisted of washing one load of laundry here at the marina and visiting the grocery, which is right across the street. Food prices here are very high. A gallon of milk is $8.95 and bananas are $1.09/pound. We are going to have to alter our eating habits and learn to eat local. To that end, I bought Goombay punch, which we love, and pigeon peas, which I will fix with rice when I get my nerve up. Fresh pineapples were the only bargain in the produce department, so I bought one of those, too.

We are truly excited to be in the Bahamas. There is another northeastern front with very strong winds moving in tomorrow and prudence dictates that we'll be here until Wednesday waiting for it to pass before we begin moving down into the Exumas.

Isn't that a shame!!...stuck in Nassau for three days. We'll get another good night's sleep and then do some sightseeing.

Go Colts.

AN OVERNIGHTER ON THE OCEAN

After several months of cruising, we had begun to feel that we are ready to handle a winter in the Bahamas.

We had sailed the Intracoastal Waterway from Georgia down the Atlantic coast to the Keys and up the Gulf Coast to Naples, then back to Georgia. No major problems. No accidents. No one overboard unintentionally. We had not destroyed, or even (significantly) damaged, our boat or any other boats or docks. We have become reasonably proficient at anchoring, piloting, maintenance and repair.

The one thing we had not accomplished, until a couple of weeks ago, was an overnight sail.

While we were anchored at Lake Worth, we met a couple, Dick and Jan, anchored nearby on a large catamaran named Cambia. These new friends, both retired music teachers, had been sailing for nearly ten years. As we visited, they mentioned that they were going to make the 12-hour trip "outside" from Lake Worth (Palm Beach) to Miami on Thursday, leaving about 5:00 p.m.

Traveling on the ocean instead of the Intracoastal would eliminate having to negotiate 20 draw bridges between Palm Beach and Ft. Lauderdale. The trip from Ft. Lauderdale to Miami would have to be outside anyway, since there is a fixed bridge north of Miami that our 57' mast is too tall to pass under.

Dick and Jan had made this trip before. The weather forecast was for calm seas and light winds. We took a deep breath and asked if we could go with them.

Just before 5:00 p.m., we fired up the engines and headed out to sea, following Cambia at a safe distance. About two miles out, we headed south. It didn't take long for the sun to set. Slowly, the light faded until we had to strain to see the water in front of us. I worried for a while about what we might run into, but finally decided it was useless to be concerned about something I couldn't control.

The ocean swells raised and lowered the boat, but there were no breaking waves, only a gentle swaying up and down. There weren't many fellow boaters, but the ones we encountered had the proper lights for the most part.

We lit up Sunshine like a Christmas tree by turning on every light available, even more than required. We wanted to make sure that other boats could see us. Phil drove and we scanned the horizon every minute or two and watched the radar for other boats.

The hours passed. We ate cheese and crackers for dinner, donned our "fowlies" as the weather began to chill, and played Nora Jones and James Taylor on the stereo.

About 1:00 a.m., we passed the Port Everglades inlet at Ft. Lauderdale and had to dodge freighters, cruise ships and barges that were entering and exiting the port. I was surprised at the amount of traffic in the middle of the night. Radar helped us estimate the distance between us and other boats, but I still worried about being on a collision course with an ocean liner. We made it past Port Everglades without incident.

We arrived in sight of Miami about 4:30 a.m., but it seemed to take forever to actually get to the inlet, called Government Cut. I was driving at this point and there were several cruise ships in the area. Some were anchored outside the entrance to the channel. Some were moving.

As we entered the channel, our path was marked by flashing lights. Red on the right. Green on the left. All I had to do was stay between them as we approached Government Cut. Luck was with us and no ships were following us into the channel or leaving as we approached.

Dick and Jan had arrived before us and talked us into the anchorage, which was not far from the inlet and on the southwest side of Fisher Island. We anchored near them at 5:30 a.m. As I looked to the west, the Miami skyline was almost on top of us. It was a gorgeous picture post-card view.

We fell into bed and slept soundly until late in the morning.

First overnight passage. Mission accomplished!

BLOB ATTACKS BOAT!

Our trip down the Intracoastal Waterway from Titusville to Palm Beach was uneventful...until we arrived at our destination.

Motoring into the North Lake Worth anchorage, we heard and felt something hit the port hull and then bounce along underneath the boat. As we watched, an object bobbed up behind the stern and floated away. It appeared to be the remnants of a palm tree, barely visible above the surface.

Suddenly, the port engine began to vibrate, causing the whole boat to shake. We switched off that engine and proceeded into the anchorage using only the starboard engine. Once we got anchored, we tried the port engine again, and again the engine rattled and the boat shook. We both had visions of a broken propeller and another $400 haul-out to fix it.

It was nearly dark, so we had dinner and went to bed with somber thoughts of high-priced repairs.

The next morning, Phil donned a snorkeling mask and swam under the boat to inspect the propeller. He soon dislodged a four-foot mess of tree bark and fiber. We took the attached picture of the "blob" that had attacked our propeller.

Back on board, Phil started up the port engine, which now purred like a cat. Crisis averted!

We enjoyed a wonderful three-day visit with my brother, Allen, and his wife Dorie, whose lovely winter home is just a few miles from the anchorage. We celebrated an early Thanksgiving with them, made trips to WalMart and West Marine for supplies, and did our laundry.

We relaxed on their huge screened-in porch, enjoyed dinners in and out, chatted about politics and got caught up on family news. Life in Palm Beach Gardens is good.

We pulled the anchor late Thursday afternoon and headed out for our first overnight sail, which would take us from Palm Beach to Miami. I'll describe that trip in the next post.

Margaret

SPLASHED!

In cruiser language, getting "splashed" means having your boat put back in the water. Sunshine got splashed last Thursday (Nov. 6th). Her bottom has been sanded and painted and her hulls have been compounded and buffed. She is like a new boat!

We decided to remain at the dock for several days to finish up some projects and work on our provisioning for the Bahamas. Although there are grocery stores in the Bahamas, most things are very expensive, especially paper products, toiletries, wine, American beer, soft drinks, canned meat and canned fruits and vegetables.

All the cruising guides and the Bahama veterans have told us to provision well, so that's what I've been doing. I've made two trips to Walmart so far and will need a third visit to complete my list.

It's difficult to anticipate how much toilet paper, detergent, sunscreen, paper towels, toothpaste, crackers, canned food, etc., two people might need during the next six months. We are also going to have guests on board part of the time, so I'm guessing on a lot of the items.

I hope we will be eating lots of fresh-caught fish and local fruits and vegetables. But in case the fish aren't biting and we can't find local veggies, we'll have plenty of spaghetti with canned tomato sauce, rice and beans and peanut butter to tide us over.

Finding a place for all these provisions has been a challenge, but I've been surprised at what I can stash here and there. I just hope I remember where I've put things.

The Bahamas does have a lot of food and drink bargains. Rum, of course, is cheap and plentiful. The local beer, called Kalik, is tasty and inexpensive. Several items are imported from the UK and are real bargains, including butter in tins. You can also usually find beans, rice and flour.

I have a few more projects to finish before we leave Titusville, including making a cover for Phil's bicycle and giving Sunshine a good cleaning, inside and out. Phil has been busy fixing mechanical problems and making sure we have all the spare parts we need for six months out of the country.

We had originally planned to spend Thanksgiving with family in Palm Beach, but have decided to advance our schedule a bit. We'll leave Titusville later this week, anchor out at Melbourne the first night and Jensen Beach the second night, where we'll visit good friends from Greenwood. Then we'll move on south to Lake Worth, where we'll anchor out and have an early Thanksgiving with my brother Allen and his wife Dorie.

Afterwards, we'll go a little further south, perhaps the Miami area, and wait for a "weather window" to cross to the Bahamas. We are thinking of going straight through to Nassau, a 32-hour trip. Sailing overnight will be a new experience for us and our first trip across the Gulf Stream should produce some exciting blog posts.

Margaret

On the hard in Titusville

We arrived in Titusville, Florida on Sunday, October 18th. The wind was blowing about 20 knots, which made anchoring rather tricky.

Sunshine was bucking like a bronco and the wind was blowing us backward at about 4 knots as we let out the anchor. Phil was trying to balance on the bow as he monitored the chain coming out. I was at the helm, trying without much success to keep our backward motion to a minimum. The anchor caught suddenly and the boat jerked to a stop, nearly flipping Phil overboard.

We were glad when we got back inside the cabin and were able to settle in for the night.

By Monday morning, the wind had calmed and we dinghied ashore to Westland Marina, where we planned to have Sunshine hauled out of the water for a couple of weeks.

We checked in at the office and arranged the haul-out for Wednesday morning. Then, we took a short tour of Titusville in the car that our good friend Rich Tanner had kindly left for us to use. Rich, owner of a PDQ 36 named Feral Cat, had spent the summer at Titusville but headed south before we arrived.

In it's heyday, Titusville was home to most of the people who worked at nearby Cape Canaveral. NASA's diminished role in the last few years has taken a toll on this once flourishing town, but it still has the basic cruising necessities: a WalMart, a West Marine, and a boatyard with a lift to haul out our catamaran, and that allows you to remain on your boat and, most important, allows you to do your own work.

Marinas can make more money using their own employees to work on boats. As a result, do-it-yourself boatyards are becoming rare, and Westland Marina is one of the few remaining.

We were up early on Wednesday, getting ready for our haul-out. We motored Sunshine into the marina and tied up at the designated dock. When the traveling lift was in place, the dock workers pulled Sunshine into place. Slings were placed under the boat in front and back of her keel and she was hoisted up out of the water.

The travel lift carried Sunshine to an empty spot in the boatyard and lowered her so that she was resting on her keels, with two jacks in back to balance her 8,000 pounds.

We are able to live on board with most of the comforts of home, except for the head (bathroom). The bathhouse is a short walk away, so we are not suffering much.

We have been "on the hard," as they say, for a week and a half. Phil has completed sanding, priming and painting the bottom and I am working on buffing and waxing the hulls above the newly painted bottom.

We'll be out of the water for a few more days before we get "splashed," then plan to remain at anchor here at Titusville while we provision for our trip south, eventually winding up at West Palm Beach for Thanksgiving with family.

We are pleased with the results of our first major do-it-yourself project on Sunshine.

Margaret

SUNSHINE IS ON THE MOVE!

Wednesday morning, October 15, 9:30 a.m., we untied the dock lines and backed Sunshine, our 36' catamaran, out of her slip at Brunswick Landing Marina and headed south.

After a month and a half docked at Brunswick, just north of the Georgia-Florida line, we had grown soft and lazy. We had indulged in hot showers, letting the water run and run, free laundry, cable television, nightly cocktail parties on Dock 10, and our car only a few yards away, ready for a quick trip to WalMart or West Marine.

Mid-October was bringing a chill to the night air and we had promised ourselves to always be where the butter melted, so it was definitely time to begin our trek south, first to Florida and then to the Bahamas, where we planned to spend the winter.

We had spent the summer back home in Greenwood, Indiana. While in Indiana, we visited the Sailrite sewing machine factory in Churubusco, near Ft. Wayne, and purchased a sewing machine designed to make and repair sails and do canvas work.

All serious cruisers have Sailrites. With this marvelous machine, you can sew up to eight layers of canvas! It's definitely not a sewing machine for wusses.

My first project on the Sailrite was to make dinghy chaps (see photo). Inflatable dinghy's are like a car for cruisers. The dinghy is how you get from the boat to shore when you are anchored out. UV rays damage rubber dinghy's, so wise cruisers put coats on their dinghys, called "chaps." Chaps also prevent passengers from getting the dreaded "dinghy butt."

My friend Val, from La Buena Vida, encouraged me to make the chaps. She had made a set for her own dinghy. She got the fabric for me (Sunbrella) at a great price and gave me advice on how to make a pattern and fit the chaps to the dinghy. It was a week-long project, but when I was finished, the dinghy had a new coat.

A neighboring cruiser saw our dinghy chaps and said he had thought about buying some, but the price was $600. If our dinghy chaps are worth $600, we've nearly paid for our Sailrite already!

The second project was a screen for our companionway (another photo), which is the main door to our cabin, That project took only one day to complete and keeps the bugs out.

Our first day of travel took us outside into the Atlantic. Our traveling companions, Harold and Val on La Buena Vida, could not use the Intracoastal Waterway because their mast is too tall (66') to fit under some of the bridges and their draft (6') is too deep for the shallow ICW. Sunshine's mast is only 58' and our draft is less than 3'.

We had a fine wind and made good time with our sails up and the motor running, but the motion of the large waves and swells made both Phil and me a little green around the gills, so to speak, for most of the afternoon. Sometimes it takes a day or two to get used to the sea again after you've been away.

We anchored for the night in the shelter of Cumberland Island. The next morning, we decided to take the ICW and parted company with our friends on La Buena Vida.

The next two days on the ICW were calm and quiet. We motored seven or eight hours each day and found nice, quiet anchorages each night. Last night, we anchored in sight of the remains of Ft. Matansas, built by the Spanish in 1740 to try to keep the English from advancing down into Spanish-held Florida.

The ICW is not as fast as going "outside," but the scenery is incredible and the ride is fairly smooth. Some have described the ICW as how America looked before it was developed. There are no fast food restaurants, no filling stations, or malls, or subdivisions. In some places, especially in Georgia, you can travel for miles without seeing a house.

Now that we are in Florida, we see more homes, lots of other boats, and many people fishing. Wildlife is everywhere, including Great Egrets, Great Blue Herons, brown pelicans, white pelicans, gulls, terns, and ospreys by the dozens. Yesterday, I even saw a huge wood stork fishing along the water's edge. Dolphins play around the boat.

As I write this post, it's Saturday morning, October 18th. We are beginning our fourth day on the water. The weather has been beautiful and all the systems on the boat are working well. We should be in Titusville, by tomorrow afternoon.

Margaret