Tag: bahamas

Turtle Tales from Warderick Wells

Turtle Tales from Warderick Wells

anniedike

Boo Hoo Hill, blowholes, a greeter shark … oh my! Warderick Wells was definitely our favorite stop in the Exumas this past spring. We only had time to visit a few Exuma islands before we had to move to get our boat back to safety before hurricane season began, but Phillip and I both are so glad we stretched our Exumas visit enough to let us enjoy this stunning Land and Sea park at Warderick Wells Cay. Here is where the island is located.

The natural deep channel that snakes through the harbor makes for some of the most stunning neon-streaked water views I’ve ever seen.

The snorkeling here was also some of the very best we’ve done to date. Being a Land and Sea Park it is a “no-take reserve” (meaning no fishing, poaching, or harvesting) making it a fabulous ecological preserve and wildlife refuge. 

The whole island really is breathtaking. I felt like a super model when I saw the photos of myself walking out of the water. It’s amazing what a beautiful Bahamian backdrop can do. Bo Derrick look out!

  • Both of Phillip’s favorite ladies in one shot!

But, the island had so much more to offer than views:

The legend of Boo Hoo Hill, with its haunted howls from the souls that perished on a long-ago ship lost to the reef is a fun hike up the island and offers a signing tree with an amazing view. 

  • Love this. So true.

Emerald Rock gifted us with exceptional snorkeling just a short dinghy ride from our boat. I saw a baby puffer fish, a white speckled stingray, funky sea cucumbers, and a lion fish all in one dive. Sorry not sorry for the lack of underwater photos. I was living that moment! Not filming it. 

A friendly (I’m going to assume) nurse shark comes to visit every new boat that hooks onto a ball in the mooring channel. It was a little unnerving at first, knowing we were about to go snorkeling. But, when we saw him swim up to every other new boat that came in, we knew we were safe. It’s just a new breed of shark they have in the Exumas: a greeter shark. : )

There is also a sunken boat near Mooring Ball No. 10 that was really neat to dive. While the channel graciously offers enough depth for 20+ boats to cruise in, grab a ball for a few nights, and enjoy all the island has to offer, it is still only around 15-18-feet deep allowing for easy free-water diving and snorkeling. You can see the channel here that curves around, kind of like a fish hook.

Underneath the sunken boat, Phillip and I saw the biggest grouper and lobster we had both ever seen. The grouper had to be about four feet long, from nose to tail, and the lobster’s body was bigger than a basketball. Antennae to tail, he was probably longer than the grouper! We had to dive down 3-4 times to fully take them in. And, it was fun to learn from other cruisers who were there, as well as the Land and Sea Park staff, that the grouper and the lobster are apparently long-time friends who have been living under that boat for years. I wonder if they get tired of the lookie-loos … 

This is all just the tip of the Warderick iceberg. I could go on. But, when I was reflecting back on our time there—as Phillip and I are right now gearing up to kick off our cruising season this year, beginning again in the Bahamas—three distinct memories came back to me. One, I sent to Bob Bitchin in a fun “Annie-dotal” story he requested at the Annapolis Boat Show. Be on the lookout for that. It’s called They Don’t Answer Stupid Questions in the Bahamas. The other two I’ve written up for you below: 1) We Dropped the Ball; and 2) Our Time With a Turtle. : )

We Dropped the Ball

This was easily mine and Phillip’s biggest ever complete mooring ball FAIL. If you’ve ever felt like you have been “the show” in the mooring field, with everyone watching you miss the ball, lose a boat hook, trip on the deck, miss the ball again, curse, throw things, etc., don’t worry. We’ve been there, too. This was definitely our day to entertain the other boats already safely on their balls in Warderick Wells Cay. And, it was my day (of course!) to be Captain. 

Since I got my USCG license in 2017, Phillip and I try to share all roles on the boat equally … well, except when it comes to contorting into lazarettes and engine spaces. I seem to be more suited for that. But, when it comes to helming, navigating, sail trimming, deckhanding, etc., we try to keep it equal so we always have a good understanding of what the forces on the boat are doing and what the other crew member is experiencing or dealing with. It has been a very fruitful, eye-opening exercise for us as we continue to learn the obstacles and challenges unique to the traditional roles we use to play where Phillip always helmed, and I always ran around on deck like a jackrabbit on cocaine fending off and catching/tossing lines. While the mere role of Captain does not (on our boat) make one responsible for any snafoos, I will just go ahead and admit our epic fail that day was 100% my fault. But, thankfully, there was absolutely no damage, 0%, so it is now just a fun docking debacle story we get to share. As Bob Bitchin will tell you: The difference between an ordeal and an adventure is what?  Attitude. Love that guy!

So, after an unnerving exchange with Radio Lady, the Exumas Land and Sea Park gal at the headquarters who guided us in and assigned us our ball (you’ll read about her in an upcoming Lats and Atts issue), I was navigating our Niagara 35 along the narrow channel that I mentioned snakes through the harbor. It really is a fantastic, natural deep channel that—thankfully—allows us, on boats with a deep draft, to come in and enjoy this amazing place, but it was still a pretty tight little channel with a strong current pushing us toward our ball that did not have me feeling comfortable about turning around in it.

If I could avoid turning around in it, I was sure going to, which is why I told Phillip as we were approaching our ball to “Grab it at the bow.” My thinking being he would secure the ball to a bow cleat, the current would push and whip us around in a nice, tight little circle leaving us safe and latched on the ball once the boat got turned in the right direction. A great plan, right? Many of you more experienced helmsmen probably had the same reaction Phillip did.

“I think we should pass the ball, turn around, then try to get the ball as we’re approaching it, against the current,” Phillip said.

That would have brilliant. That’s not what I did. I told you I did not want to turn around. 

“Try your best to get the ball at the bow as I come up on it,” I told him. And, he did, but the current proved to be too much for him to hold it. After Phillip dropped it, I saw the ball coming up near me at the stern, and my inner deckhand/jackrabbit took over. I left the helm and grabbed the ball. But, oddly, with the ball saddled up on our port stern and the current streaming by, it was just the right cocktail of forces to park us. The boat was just sitting. Happily stopped. Only problem was we were backwards, and not secure on the ball. I gave Phillip a funny “What now?” look when he made it back to the cockpit, and he gave me a “Well, you’re the Captain” look in return. Or maybe it was a “this was your idea” look. Yeah, that was probably it. And, he was right. This was my mess. So, I decided we would walk the ball up to the bow together and secure it. A great plan, right?

Wrong again, Captain Annie.

I could just feel all eyes of the anchorage on us. Rightfully so. If I were them, I would have plopped down on my bow with a drink in hand for the free show! Cruising is full of them! As soon as Phillip and I got the ball near the bow and the boat started to turn around, she had somehow gathered the force of a thousand horses. When the current caught her stern and slung her around, it was so hard and fast that the rope loop from the ball jerked out of both mine and Phillip’s hands at the same time (leaving me with blood blisters). Suddenly we were drifting back to the edge of the channel with no one at the helm. It’s deep in the middle of that channel, but it is super shallow on either side. There’s not much room to avoid running aground.

I flew back to the cockpit to grab the helm and throw her in forward to stay in the channel. Phillip was absolutely right. It became immediately clear to me that approaching the ball using the current as a pushback was the best way to do it. It’s like docking with a head wind, much easier than with wind that is shoving you into the slip. I just did not want to turn around in that tight spot with the current.

Funny thing is, I got my wish. Because I didn’t turn us around. The current did! Along with our masterful ball-handling. (Sure, go ahead. Make all the jokes you want to right there.) While we were thrilled to finally be safe on the mooring at Warderick Wells Cay, it was clear that Phillip and I had definitely dropped the ball. 

Our Time With a Turtle

To date, this is still my #1 turtle experience ever, although I’m eager to collect more. Phillip and I were diving that sunken boat near Ball No. 10 that I mentioned, when he spotted a turtle on the bottom. Our entire time in the Bahamas, we had not yet had a good turtle spotting. They are just so fast … and shy. The minute they sense you are looking at them, the head pops down, and the turtle takes off. We chased many in our dinghy, but chase was all we did. By the time we had gone through Bimini, Andros, and Nassau, to make it to the Exumas, I was dying for a date with a turtle. And, boy did I get it! 

This little guy was munching sea grass on the bottom, minding his own business, enjoying his lunch, when Phillip pointed him out to me. Well, and I say “little,” but he was the biggest one I’ve seen that close-up. His shell was probably 2.5 feet in diameter. A decent-sized turtle. I stopped kicking and wading, thinking surely he would high-tail it out of there the minute he noticed me, like most other turtles always did, and I watched him in complete still-mode for a bit. It was cute to watch his little head extend out from his shell as he would turn it to the side and get a nice big sea grass bite. I could even hear him chewing! I watched him munch and crunch for about two minutes, then he started to make his way to the top for a breath of air. 

Phillip was about 5-6 feet away from me, watching the turtle and other things swimming around the sunken boat when the turtle stated to rise between us, putting him about 2 feet away from me, and 2 feet away from Phillip. Either one of us could have reached out and touched him! But, Turtle Guy was just slowly swimming up, not paying us any mind. Phillip and I were struck still with saucer eyes watching him. Then, a few feet shy of the top, the turtle stopped and waved his little turtle arms in a pattern to hold him steady. He turned and slowly looked at Phillip, holding his stunned gaze for a few seconds, then paddled his arms some more so he could slowly turn and look at me. The turtle and I locked eyes for another few seconds, then he kept on his path, making his way to the top, and we all broached the surface together to take a breath: me, Phillip, and Turtle Guy. Like we were some happy trio snorkeling together. That was a surreal moment we shared with a turtle. 

The turtle kept his head above water in between us for five seconds or so, then he slowly swam on down the same path back to the bottom to get back to his munching. He did this two or three times, heading down to munch for 3-4 minutes then swimming back up to take a breath and the three of us would all broach together and breathe together. It was one of the coolest experiences I’ve had while cruising. Phillip and I decided later—when we were giggling and falling all over each other in the dinghy re-living our turtle experience—that when he turned and looked at each of us, he was just taking us in, deciding if we were enemies or friends. Phillip and I both decided he saw us as friends, which is why he was fine to keep doing his thing and letting us tag along. I don’t know about you, but if you’ve ever gotten the nod of approval from a turtle, you feel just about as “one with the earth” as possible. And, even had my underwater GoPro been working, and had I captured a shot of him, I don’t think it would have done it justice, and it probably would have hindered my enjoyment. It felt nice to just be one with the turtle without the blinking red light. I will never forget that moment. 

Hope you all enjoyed the Warderick Wells tales! I would encourage any cruiser heading anywhere near the northern Exumas to plan to pull into Warderick Wells Cay and stay on a ball for a few days. It is a “must-see” place.

Next up in blog time, we’ll head back to the Berries, to gunkhole one of our favorite groups of islands, before we tuck into a new marina to stash our boat for hurricane season. Stay tuned!

Our First Taste of the Exumas: Living Large at Highbourne Cay

Our First Taste of the Exumas: Living Large at Highbourne Cay

anniedike

While I feel very lucky Phillip and I cruised the Abacos last year when they were still intact, I feel even more lucky that in “blog time” I am now able to share the wonderful islands that still remain.  I don’t mind saying it again—remember: The best way to help the Bahamas rebuild, is to continue to visit the islands that were spared.  And, why would you not?  When this awaits!

This was mine and Phillip’s first introduction to the Exuuuummmaaas: Highbourne Cay!  If you recall our stop into Morgan’s Bluff on the north tip of Andros was an unexpected, but highly-rewarding, detour.  We had been getting our teeth kicked in sailing into some rough winds coming out of the Northwest Providence Channel that were unexpectedly more southeast than south, the exact direction we would have to sail if we wanted to go directly to the Exumas from Bimini (which had been our original plan).  But, go where the weather takes you, right?  And Andros really wowed us, even with just a short overnight stay.  As I mentioned previously, we are definitely planning to spend more time there this coming season and fully explore all that the Andros Barrier Reef has to offer! Our goal this past season, however, was to get to the Exumas.  Phillip and I had not cruised them yet, and we had heard from so many other cruisers how enchanting and unique they are.  So, we said “See you later, Andros!”  It was Exumas or bust. 

And, wouldn’t you know it. Those winds that were bashing us around the day before laid down and shifted more to the south, allowing us to sail … for a bit … until they completely died.  

You know there are only three kinds of wind, don’t you?  What are you gonna do?  We spent a wonderful day motoring across the Tongue of the Ocean, however, with the trolling line out, mind you.  Thinking surely we would catch another nice whopping fish (now, when it was calm and we had nothing else to really do).  But, no, the seas have quite the sense of humor.  I’m starting to think there are only three types of fish, too: 1) the monsters that bite at the worst time; 2) the even bigger catches that would impress all your friends that never bite at all (or take your lure if they do); and 3) the little ones you catch often but they’re too small to keep.  Would you agree?  Phillip and I definitely would have loved to have another guy like this to have bitten when we were crossing the deep blue!

But, fish.  What are you gonna do?  You’re going to eat wine and cheese instead!  That’s what you’re going to do.  

We have plenty of that on-board, and a nice easy passage made for a nice wine, cheese, and book session.  I believe I was reading Where the Crawdads Sing at that time.  Could not put it down.  Any of you read that one?  Or let me know what your other favorite read has been recently.  I absolutely devour books when we’re on passage.  It’s my favorite time to read!  : )

We eased into sunset and around the east tip of Nassau, where we really had to watch the AIS traffic. When we spent those three torturous months in the Pensacola Shipyard with Brandon at Perdido Sailor back in 2016, we installed AIS on the boat.  Man, life on the hard. Those are some hard-earned, well-worth-it memories!

Although we only receive AIS transmissions, we do not transmit, Phillip and I have found it to be a fantastic addition to the boat.  I love (love, love!) that when it’s completely dark out, cloudy, with no moon or stars to light the horizon on a night passage, that at least AIS is looking out and showing me where the boats are.  It is also immensely comforting to have AIS tell me how big the other ships are, which way they are going, and what our CPA (closest point of approach) is.  Phillip and I will never regret the decision to install AIS.  Also, this may sound silly to admit, but it is rather entertaining at night.  Phillip and I hold two-hour shifts on and off and sometimes those two hours can tick by rather slowly.  It’s kind of fun to click on AIS and see who else is out there, what is their ship name, how big is it, and even hale them on the radio if you need to communicate a safe passing.  I was sure glad we had it, too, on my shift that night, as this is what Nassau looked like when we rounded the bend.  A web of ships!

We had set our sights on Highbourne Cay, one of the most northern of the Exumas and a good “dive in” point for the Exumas as they have a little marina there with fuel and a few sparse provisions.  

It would be the last marina we would see in the Exumas for a while, so we planned to drop the hook on the lee side of Highbourne Cay and spend a fun day exploring Highbourne and the surrounding islands. And the Exumas immediately began welcoming us with a glistening, dazzling show! As we started to near Highbourne Cay, the dark, deep water of the Tongue of the Ocean began to shallow and transform into this crystalline blue.  It was absolutely stunning.  Hard to believe our boat was swishing and swaying though such a breathtaking jeweled surface.  

Phillip and I both couldn’t stop staring and taking pictures.  Well, okay I was the one taking the pictures.  It’s tough being the ship’s historian.  Someone’s gotta take all the selfies to prove we were there!  : )

The folks at the Highbourne Cay Marina were super helpful and friendly and got us all topped up for our planned passages further down into the Exumas.  We arrived fairly early in the morning with an open day ahead, which Phillip naturally filled with wonderful plans to dinghy a bit to the north up to South Allan’s Island and Iguana Beach.  That man is the best trip planner; he always picks something fun, interesting, active, and usually delicious.  I am one lucky gal I will tell you that.  

On the way up, we found a beautiful little reef to snorkel and threw out our trusty Mantus dinghy anchor.  That thing is such an asset on the dinghy.  Very well-designed, super functional, and—once dug in—mighty strong. 

The anchorage there at South Allan’s was stunning.  Staying the night on the hook in there would feel like you have the world to yourself. 

Well, you and the lizards!  There were plenty of them on Iguana Beach.  

Are iguanas lizards?  Maybe not.  Hopefully I didn’t offend them in my squeaky “I want a lizard selfie” run to the beach!  : )


There is a lizard back there, I promise. I don’t like to get too close to things that can leap and claw my eyes out.

Dinghying back to our boat is when I took this famous shot of our stern. The water in the Exumas was definitely of another caliber.

For dinner that night we decided to dinghy ashore and eat at the Xuma restaurant the guys at the marina had told us about, which from a quick stroll-by earlier that day, looked fabulous.  So, Phillip and I made the absolute perfect decision to blow our load there that night and splurge on an insanely-indulgent fine-dining dinner at Highbourne Cay.  Besides, we had to celebrate and cheers our first stop in the Exumas.  It took years of planning, hard work, saving, and some rather grueling boat projects to get our boat this far.  It was worth every cent, every calorie.  Some meals just are.  

Next up, we’ll take you to Norman’s Cay with its sunken drug plane and the famous MacDuff’s Restaurant.  Cheers!

The Best Dorian Relief: Go Visit the Spared Bahamian Islands!

The Best Dorian Relief: Go Visit the Spared Bahamian Islands!

anniedike

I’ve been struggling to write this, or write or post anything actually, here at HaveWind in the tragic aftermath of Dorian.  I can only imagine what it is like right now, boots on the ground, with fresh water and supplies running low, people injured and unable to get medical help, not to mention the heartbreaking decimation of so many beautiful houses, marinas, and restaurants.  Although Plaintiff’s Rest was mercifully spared, how can I post photos of us smiling, out on the boat, saying, look at us: “Just another great day sailing” [happy face] when so many others have lost so much?  I just can’t.  To be honest, other than sharing relief effort links and donating and contributing ourselves, I didn’t know what else to say.  Hence the recent silence and the last photo I posted anywhere:

But, thankfully, this is why I have Phillip.  My idea guy.  This is what he said:

“Tell them the best thing they can do to help the Bahamas recover and rebuild is to continue visiting the islands that were spared.”

Brilliant.  You can see why I love that man.  

I realized how insightful he was and how right.  Phillip was so right.  Many of the Bahamians who lived and worked in the Abacos are going to start migrating down to Andros, Nassau, the Berries, Eleuthera, and the Exumas and surrounding islands in hopes of rebuilding and finding work.  And, the economy in the Bahamas is supported almost entirely by tourism.  If we don’t continue traveling to the Bahamian Islands that were spared and continue to contribute to their tourist economy there, they will likely not be able to survive. While the loss of the beautiful Abacos, which—up until Dorian—Phillip and I had been planning on cruising again this coming season, is a tragedy, there remains so many places south of the Abacos that are equally breathtaking and that need our support.  This was a message we recently received from the Association of Bahamas Marinas:

Immediate relief efforts are imperative now to save lives and get people healthy and safe, and thankfully many people now are sharing various resources to help do that. Although it is exceedingly sad to know there are humans on the earth that prey on people trying to help in a time of tragedy like this, it is simply true, so please research relief organizations before donating.  Also, many try to go straight to the hurricane site right after the storm to bring supplies, but that can put them in a terribly dangerous situation fraught with the potential for injury, disease, and crime. Donations to the organizations that are providing supplies to Bahamians in need or helping them evacuate is crucial right now. But, I agree with Phillip that—long-term—to help save the Bahamian economy, tourism must come back.  If you had ever just fancied the idea to visit the Bahamas, please make it a priority to visit the spared islands in the coming years as they will need our tourist dollars to survive and rebuild.  

With that in mind, I wanted to share with you all some previews of the other wondrous places south of the Abacos that Phillip and I visited the last time we were in the Bahamas, that were thankfully spared from Dorian and that we look forward to sharing in more detail with you in upcoming blog posts (full of fun travel stories) because I feel we have to continue focusing on that, too: the excitement and wonder of travel. Hurricanes are horrible, but they cannot be stopped or controlled.  How we choose to spend our time, despite them, however, is something we are all able to control.  Our collective decision to continue to bring tourism to the Bahamas can help bring the Abacos back. My good friend Pam Wall, whom I will be speaking with at Cruiser’s University at the upcoming Annapolis Boat Show (please sign up if you want to attend our “Old Salts, New Systems” talk and haven’t already! : ) initially inspired Phillip and I to travel to the Abacos back in 2015. Thankfully, we did in 2017-2018 and got to enjoy those wonderful islands before they were decimated.  But, I will now join the chant Pam said so energetically to us to hopefully inspire you all this coming cruising season to: 

GO TO THE BAHAMAS!  

Andros, Nassau, the Berries, Eleuthera, and the Exumas and surrounding islands still have so much to offer and they desperately need your support.  Tourism is their lifeblood.  Keep it pumping!  Here are some of the breathtaking sights, scenes, bites, and drinks that await.  Phillip and I hope to see some of you there!  

Andros

I wrote extensively about Andros last time, showcasing all of the wonderful tucked-away treats that often skipped-over island offered up for us.  I’m so glad it was spared as we have plans to go back and stay in Fresh Water Creek and dive and spear-fish the great Andros Barrier Reef. The cost for cruising there (water and food) is much better as it is a bigger island, able to obtain and preserve more food and supplies.  

Here are some resources for things to do and see in Andros: https://www.lonelyplanet.com/the-bahamas/out-islands/andros

http://www.bahamas-travel.info/islands/andros.html

The Berry Islands

If you recall Phillip and I sailed there previously on our way home from the Abacos and met the wildly-memorable Steve and Pat who inspired my “People with Gusto” article in SAIL Magazine. The Berries offered Phillip and I some of the best spearfishing we have done in the Bahamas, and some of the bluest waters. 

They also have a world-class big fishing tournament.  Learn more about all the wonderful things you can do and see in the Berries here: https://www.bahamas.com/islands/berry-islands

Nassau

Phillip and wandered through the jaw-dropping Atlantis resort the last time we flew through Nassau and, for those of you who love the lavish, indulgent, resort-feel vacation, Nassau is an absolute dream.  Five-star dining, incredible shopping, and all still with the mind-boggling green-blue beaches that you can only find in the Bahamas.  We learned last time from our cab driver that Tiger Woods has his own golf course there, and restaurant that you can eat at.  

Here are some more resources for all of the amazing things you can do in Nassau:

https://www.townandcountrymag.com/leisure/travel-guide/a9261279/nassau-bahamas-travel-guide/

https://www.nassauparadiseisland.com

I also really liked what these fellow travel bloggers had to say about Nassau: https://finduslost.com/the-complete-nassau-bahamas-travel-guide/

Eleuthera

Phillip and I stayed for a while in Harbour Island, in Eleuthera, hunkering down as a blow passed through, and we really loved the community, the restaurants, and … for us … the kite-surfing! I wrote a fun blog post previously about our passage through the Devil’s Backbone into Harbour Islandand all of the fun things Harbour Island had to offer, from the pink sand beach on the North (where you can ride horses on the beach!), to the snorkeling, shelling, eat at Sip-Sip on the Atlantic Coast, and so much more!

Here are some more resources for Eleuthera.  Phillip and I barely scraped the surface exploring Harbour Island.  Next time we plan to rent a car and drive around to experience the entire island: 

https://www.harpersbazaar.com/culture/travel-dining/a14754507/just-back-from-eleuthera-bahamas/

https://www.lonelyplanet.com/the-bahamas/out-islands/eleuthera

Cat Island

Phillip and I have not personally been so I don’t have any personal photos to share, but I will tell you one of the reasons I knew I wanted to travel the Exumas and surrounding islands the next time we came to the Bahamas was because of a photo I saw that a friend posted of Cat Island! 

Here are some resources for things to do at Cat Island: 

https://www.tripadvisor.com/Tourism-g147427-Cat_Island_Out_Islands_Bahamas-Vacations.html

https://www.bahamas.com/islands/cat-island

A fellow travel blogger also put together this nice travel guide for Cat Island: https://www.outislandlifebahamas.com/2018/08/a-mini-travel-guide-to-cat-island/

The Exumas

Thankfully, Phillip were able to make a quick jaunt over, from Andros, to the Exumas the last time we were there.  While we did not get to spend too much time exploring the Exumas (our plan is to do more this coming season), from what we saw we were spellbound.  They really are telling you the truth when they say you’ve never seen beauty like the Exumas.  We cannot wait to share more about these places we traveled to in the Exumas:

Higbourne Cay

With its picturesque marina, fun, fascinating snorkeling, and wonderfully-decadent Xuma’s Restaurant:

Here is more information on what Highbourne Cay has to offer: https://highbournecaybahamas.com

They even offer a snorkeling and diving guide for the island: https://highbournecaybahamas.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/WTD_Highbourne.pdf

Norman’s Cay

With its famous MacDuff’s Restaurantand sunken plane!

More info on Norman’s Cay:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norman%27s_Cay

http://bahamascruisersguide.com/Exumas/Exumas/NormansC.html

Warderick Wells Cay

This was mine and Phillip’s favorite destination out of our entire trip to the Bahamas this last spring. Warderick Wells is a protected land and sea park so there is no fishing on the reefs, which means they are exquisite and so well-preserved!  There’s also a friendly neighborhood nurse shark that visits every new boat that comes into the anchorage, as well as a fabulous walking trail with blow holes and a signing tree.  I cannot wait to tell you more about this fabulous island, and the hilarious docking (or I guess you could call it balling … yeah you can make a comment about that ; ) balling debacle we had there!  Good stories lie ahead my friends!

Here is some more information about the beauty and preserved sites Warderick Wells has to offer: 

http://www.bahamascruisersguide.com/page75/page19/page19.html

Exuma Cays Land and Sea Park (Warderick Wells)

https://www.tripadvisor.com/ShowTopic-g147432-i7577-k605722-Warderick_Wells-Staniel_Cay_Out_Islands_Bahamas.html

And, these are only three of the dozens of islands that make up the Exumas, each with something unique and magical to share.  And, everyone who lives on those islands is hoping and praying for tourists just like you to come visit and keep bringing your support and important cruising dollars to their struggling economy.  Why hesitate?  So much beauty and awe awaits!  We hope his can help encourage some followers to set their sights on the amazing islands that still remain.  Our thoughts are with those in the Abacos working hard now to get safe, healthy, and out of there if need be.  Dorian was such a devastating monster.  But, the Bahamas will and can rebuild.  With our help.  Andros, Nassau, the Berries, Eleuthera, and the exquisite Exumas still await.  Our message to offer the best Dorian relief is:

GO VISIT THE SPARED BAHAMAS!

One of the Bahamas’ Best Kept Secrets: Andros

One of the Bahamas’ Best Kept Secrets: Andros

anniedike

Phillip and I had no plans to stop in Andros on our last voyage through the Bahamas.  Although we do have a good friend who told us (when we were planning our first trip to the Bahamas in 2017) that it is a great spot for kitesurfing, we got caught up like most do in our excitement to see the Exuuumas!  When most people write and post about the remote, untouched beauty of the Bahamas, they’re usually referring to the Exumas and surrounding islands. Places like Cat Island:

Staniel Cay with its famous James Bond Thunderball Grotto:

Or Little Exuma with its Tropic of Cancer Beach:  

Many Bahamas cruisers told us while the Abacos are fun and stunning in their own right, there is just something pristinely breathtaking about the Exumas.  So, when we left Bimini headed toward New Providence Channel all headings were pointing east, to the Exumas.  But, as you know from our last blog and my scariest moment of the trip, the weather forced us on a slight detour.  And, as is usually the case, Phillip and I were thrilled we took the detour because it revealed to us yet another new, exciting destination in the Bahamas: Andros. 

Although our mere single-night stay this last time proved to us Andros is a rare gem, with experiences and stories all its own, after researching further we have since learned Andros is one of the most cost-effective and well-stocked islands in the Bahamas.  Because it is so large, produce and water are often in much greater supply than the smaller islands.  As many of you may know, water can cost as much as $1.00/gallon in certain areas of the Bahamas.  With as much water as Phillip and I need to drink while sweating and dehydrating daily in the Bahamas and use for showering and rinsing the boat, the price for water in the Bahamas can start to creep into the budget.  

We also learned Andros is home to one of the best and largest barrier reefs in the Bahamas, the Andros Barrier Reef, which Phillip and I plan to dive and snorkel in the future. 

Ahhhh … it’s so comforting to see healthy reefs!

The spearfishing would also be good on the east shore of Andros as it drops right into the Tongue of the Ocean. Catching fresh fish to cook on the boat every night is not only delicious, it’s also not bad on the wallet either. All told, Phillip and I are planning to check out Fresh Water Creek and spend more time in Andros the next time we sail by. We know it’s worth another stop for more discovery because we got a personal, local peek into the island this last time when Phillip scored three-hour driving tour guided by a long-time Andros local and the Harbor Master, a wonderful woman named Kenedra (whose name I can only hope I’m spelling correctly) and her bubbly daughter, Diamond!  

We dropped the hook in Morgan’s Bluff rather early in the morning, hours before dinner time (and you remember what was for dinner that night! : ).

With the whole afternoon on our hands, Phillip and I decided to venture ashore to take a poke around and see what life is like at Morgan’s Bluff.  

I’ll admit it is just a beautiful little beach with a tiny little rum bar, but that sounds like heaven to me!  And, it was.  The beach there on the north end of Andros was nothing short of stunning. 

And, an ice cold Kalik and rum drink after the beat-down and fish battle we’d just been through was quite the reward. 

After talking with a local at the bar, we inquired about a potential tour of the island and he personally set us up with the Harbour Master, Kenedra, who offered to take us around the island herself personally that afternoon by car.  This was such a surprise and wonderful treat.  

Kenedra first took us to the huge rocky bluff on the northern tip of Andros.  It really is a steep ways up with a harsh rocky shore below. 

Legend has it, the cruel and infamous buccaneer Henry Morgan (you guessed it … THE Captain Morgan) had a hideout in a cave at this most northwestern tip of Andros.  He and his crew allegedly hid their booty, both gold and rum (that’s worth hiding!), in the cave because the bluff the cave is located under was a notoriously dangerous spot for ships.  Since most other sailors and pirates avoided this area because of its treacherous shore, Captain Morgan thought it was the best place in the world for his treasure. 

Kenendra snapped mine and Phillip’s photo in front of the sign commemorating the Captain Morgan legend on Andros.  

She told us, though, by the end of his career, legend says Captain Morgan was known not for his keen pirating abilities, but for his excessive drinking and weight gain.  Blame it on the rum … 

Kenedra drove us all over the island, stopping frequently to catch up with fellow Andros residents.  (This is very common in the Bahamas.)  Locals usually do not pass each other on the roads without honking and waving, at the very least, and often not without stopping and talking for a bit.  It never ceases to amaze me how connected they are, compared to people in the States who can go for days, weeks (months even!), without talking to any people in their neighborhood.  The sense of community there is truly heart-warming.  After the Bluff and Captain Morgan’s famous cave (and specifically in response to her daughter, Diamond’s, insistent urging) Kenedra also took us to a quirky little hotel, the Pineville Motel, where the owner has a petting zoo with an eclectic mix of animals, ranging from goats, to peacocks, to rabbits. 

 I wanted to pet (keep) them all! Thankfully, Phillip put the kibosh on it (or that would make for quite an interesting sail on Plaintiff’s Rest the next day! Phillip and I also posed for another cameo photo on the Pineville Motel’s Disco Stage.

[Strike your own John Travolta disco move now! That’s a HaveWind order!]

Yeah baby!

Kenedra also took us to an exquisite little bungalow resort on the island, the Andros Island Beach Resort, and introduced us to the owner who runs the rental units (adorable little cottages right on the beach) and the restaurant.  

Phillip and I were really surprised to see such amazing accomodations here, that would cost upwards of $500/night on the east coast of Florida going for a mere $200/night in the Bahamas.  Another reason it pays to travel.  

Diamond was cracking me up at this point. Over the course of the three hours she went from shy and unengaged to bubbly and inquisitive. Diamond and I became good little buddies by the end of it. She wanted to braid my hair. I should have let her!

Our last stop on the tour was the “Blue Hole.”  While we have since learned there are many of these in the Bahamas, the one in Andros carries all the way out to the ocean.  

The hole formed when a portion of the limestone island caved in, leaving a stunning blue water hole in the middle of the island fauna that is filled with cold, rainwater.  But, if you dive the hole, you will start to lower down into water with more salinity and you can eventually cave dive your way out of the hole into the Tongue of the Ocean on the east coast of Andros.  

How cool is that?  It was cool enough for Phillip to jump in!

I only hesitated (as you all know I love to jump from cliffs) knowing if I got soaked I’d have to drench Kenedra’s car with my wet soppy clothes and wild pile of hair.  Stinking hair … there are so many times I wish I was bald and more “quick-dry” like Phillip.  

The highlight of the Andros tour, however, was not a destination, but it was a big deal.  It was a dilly!  While we were chatting and driving around in the car, Diamond, happily jumping into our conversation the further we drove, suddenly blurted out “Have you guys tried a dilly yet?”  I wasn’t sure how to answer that.  I didn’t even know what a dilly was.  Is it a food?  Is it a dance?  A local handshake?  I could confidently say to Diamond, “No, I have not tried a dilly yet.”  With a gleam in her eye, her mom Kenedra (without saying a word) drove several roads leaning forward and looking up and out the windshield to the left and right, finally pulled off near a particular tree. No sooner than she put it in park, Diamond busted out of the car and started sprinting toward a very tall, bushy tree and began whacking at the upper branches with a long stick.  Phillip and I exchanged a fun “What’s the dilly-yo?”glance as Kenedra followed her daughter and started whacking too.  

Unfortunately, just as soon as it became clear to us they were trying to knock some type of fruit off of the tree for us to try, Kenedra said: “I tink dey all been picked ooh-vuh.”  But Diamond would not give up.  She kept scrambling, kept whacking, until we finally heard a muffled voice from within the cavern of the fauna.  “I got one!” Diamond cried as she came running out, her spoils in hand: a perfectly ripe dilly fruit.  Kenedra and Diamond eyed us as we eyed the fruit.  Diamond cracked it in half with her hands (a dilly is roughly the consistently of a firm kiwi on the outside, an almost ripe peach on the inside). The two halves were a bright, blazing orange.  

Definitely a fruit I had never seen before.  The word guava came to mind, but then I remembered those are green on the outside, pink on the inside.  This dilly was totally different.  But, the taste was very similar.  

Mmmm guava … I thought as the super sweet interior slipped down my throat.  Phillip and I ate both of our halves right there on the side of the road in Andros, getting all sticky-fingered without even caring, and we still note it as one our favorite “bites” of the entire trip.  

I think it was the combination of the surprise and newness Andros offered, the generosity of our hosts, and Diamond’s enthusiasm to share something of her local community with new friends.  All of it came together to culminate in the perfect sweet treat.  As we said goodbye to Kenedra and Diamond and dinghied back to our boat, Phillip and I agreed that’s what Andros felt like to us: the perfect sweet treat.  New, unexpected, and rewarding.  

Andros, we will definitely be back.  Next up, we’ll weigh anchor from (Captain) Morgan’s Bluff and make our way to our first island in the Exumas!  Man, so much work and effort has gone into bringing the boat to this point.  I still get thrills now just remembering and writing about it.  Stay tuned!

Fish Off the Hook – MY Scariest Moment of the Trip

Fish Off the Hook – MY Scariest Moment of the Trip

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Do you see it in the photo? That fish is off the hook! Literally!  Looking back, I still can’t believe Phillip and I actually got that one into the cockpit, but the pics are proof: WE DID!

Ahoy followers!  After that stretchy sidebar, it’s now time to get back to our Bahamas saga.  When we last left our hapless crew, Phillip and I (well, actually I) had just accomplished my best de-docking ever leaving Bimini (and, don’t worry, there will be plenty more not-so-great dockings after).  We were heading out early in the morning after a five-day hunker-down (that’s a military term I think) in Bimini when we had some steady east winds upwards of 18 kts on us for several days.  While it did make for some great kiting in Bimini, after five days, most of the boats on our pier were ready to toss the lines and get going.  

The winds were predicted to be a light ESE, that Philip and I were hoping would turn more south than east. (And, I hope you’ll notice my clever “hope” foreshadowing here.  As is often the case when we try to predict the wind, we are wrong.  I would call it bad foreblowing as opposed to foreshadowing but I wouldn’t want to entice toooo many foul jokes : ).  The winds were nice enough to start.  We were hauling away from Bimini toward our entrance into the Great Bahamas Bank with plans to make an overnight passage to either the west harbor on Nassau or—if things were going well on the passage—all the way to the Exumas, which was our ultimate goal this first leg of the trip.  Always good to have planned “outs” and “plan Bs” at the ready.    

It was a brisk romp in about 18kts of breeze (not what we expected, so much for the foreblowing) but it was comfortable making our way toward the Great Bahamas Bank.  

Phillip and I are still very pleased with our decision to trade out our whopping 135% genoa for our 90% offshore working jib when we’re cruising island to island (or country to country) and know we’ll be doing a good bit of offshore cruising.  Unlike “Genny,” our little “Wendy” (aptly named by one of my HaveWind followers) is super sporty and rarely gets overpowered.  It was really a fun day sailing all the way into the Great Bahamas Bank and beyond.  

While I didn’t expect it, after spending only five days and four nights on the dock in Bimini, I had already missed offshore voyaging.  That may sound a little silly having just crossed the Gulf Stream to get to Bimini, I’m serious!  When you actually get going and find yourself weighing anchor (or tossing the lines) and getting the boat moving—to an entirely new location—every 3-4 days, 5 days starts to seem just one to many.  The moment you’re back offshore, moving again, you realize how much you missed it.  

And, it didn’t hurt that the stars over the Bahamas Bank that night were just decadent. A white smattering of them, like salt on the sky.  And, I remember seeing several shooting stars that evening (and making several wishes). That I cannot share!  (It’s a Star Pact.)

The next morning, I had the sunrise shift, which is totally fine with me.  I love the shift where the sky transitions from night to day.  It’s amazing to watch it change seemingly slowly at first and then so quickly.  It still stuns me sometimes—when Phillip and I are in work mode, doing all of our busy marketing and lawyer work on land, where we don’t see near as many sunrises and sunsets as when we’re on the boat cruising—that this still happens out there. Out there, every morning (when it is clear), the sky turns from this velvety purple, to mind-boggling magenta, to a warm welcoming pinkish-yellow.  Every day. Whether you see it or not.  It’s not like wondering whether a tree that falls in the forest makes a sound.  No. I’m confident every single sunrise is beautiful, exquisite, whether seen or not. 

But, that serene “Ahhh … life is wonderful” Annie-moment didn’t last long as we were coming towards the entry into the Northwest Providence Channel and the Tongue of the Ocean. In reality, it is a rather wide entrance.  But, when a barge is coming through at the very same time, it is a rather narrow entrance. Phillip had only been asleep about 40 minutes when I was debating waking him again.  Not that we try to be prideful, in not needingto wake the other crew member (known on our boat as the “other captain” : ) up—well, Phillip might be … a tad … he still is a Marine, or helpful, in letting the other person sleep more when we know they are tired.  

No.  On Plaintiff’s Restwe try to always follow the standing “When to Wake the Captain Rule” which I have written on before.  That rule is: It’s time to wake the Captain when you’ve thought: Maybe I should wake the Captain.  Standing rule.  Applies all the time.  

And, with a 600-foot barge coming toward the NW Providence Channel inlet the exact same time I was with a CPA (closest point of approach on our AIS) narrowing from 0.8 of a mile to 0.6 down to 0.3 in about 20 minutes, I knew it was time to wake my “other captain.”  While Phillip was not thrilled with his 40-minute-only nap, he is always very diligent in getting up and getting alert quickly when there is a potential issue. Although this one was a little embarrassing in that by the time we passed the barge just before the entrance, it was clear 0.4 nm apart is a perfectly safe distance in the daytime with everyone motoring along in calm seas.  The entrance to the channel suddenly felt monstrously wide leaving me plenty of room, which mighthave left me a little embarrassed for having woke Phillip.  But, I was not.  This is the very reason for the rule.  It alleviates the need to feel embarrassed or ashamed.  (And I like it that way.) 

But that little “adventure” was just the start of our harrowing day which turned out to be MY scariest moment of the entire trip.  I have written about Phillip’s before.  It was our “Auto Turn-Notto” dilemma before we left for the Bahamas (which, granted, was before we left for our trip) but that was Phillip’s answer when he was asked: “What was your scariest moment of the trip?”  That was his. This was mine.

As we started to make our way into the Tongue of the Ocean, things got a little bumpy.  The predicted “light” ESE winds were 18+ kts right on the nose.  While Phillip and I had been hoping they would turn south sooner as predicted, they had not.  And, ironically, although they had been blowing like stink dead out of the east for days, we would have welcomed an east wind now as it would have been more on our beam, rather than the nose.  But, nope.  We had those two kinds of winds that often occur together: winds of the wrong speed and in the wrong direction.  “My favorite!” said no sailor ever.

While we were … somewhat comfortable … it was a bit of a bash-around bumpy ride, and the thought of continuing in that fashion for another 6-7 hours to Nassau or (worse) another 18-24 to the Exumas was … not very appealing.  After some discussion, thought, and chart-checking, Phillip and I decided to pull into Andros.  We had never been there before, but a good friend of ours from back in Pensacola (Captain Jack if you’re listening – here’s your “shout-out!”) had highly recommended it as a more untouched part of the Bahamas and a great spot for kitesurfing.  Two things we love to find the most while traveling: tranquility and kite access. So, we decided to head for a new anchorage to us, a place we had not originally intended to go during this trip to the Bahamas, but NOT “going with the weather” was a lesson we had learned in the past.  

The wind and seas were telling us to get out of this mess, so that is exactly what we chose to do.  Morgan’s Bluff looked like a safe little harbor that would offer us awesome protection from the ESE and S winds for the evening while this stuff blew over.  

It seemed, from the info in the charts, there was not much to do ashore, but we didn’t care. Phillip and I can make a lot of fun out of “not much” if we need to, and that’s only if we need.  We are perfectly content to sip sundowners in the cockpit, cook aboard, and watch the sun go down.  So, it was Morgan’s Bluff or bust!

But, that also meant coming into a new, narrow entrance in some kicked-up seas with winds on the nose knocking the boat all around.  Good times. While the B&G chartplotter showed a nice little curve of an inlet with plenty of depth and very clear markers for it, that map was for FantasyLand!  In reality, there were no markers in sight.  Although this is common in many places in the Bahamas (they simply don’t have the government funding, or the need, to maintain navigation markers as rigorously as we do in the states), it’s often not a big deal because the Explorer Charts are soooo accurate.  If I haven’t stressed that point strongly enough, I’ll happily do it again: If you’re planning to go to the Bahamas, get and study the Explorer Charts before you go and use them while you navigate!  www.explorercharts.com.  

Phillip was at the helm while I was religiously trying to match the lats and lons on the Explorer Charts to what was showing on the B&G as we made our way into Morgan’s Bluff in Andros.  Maybe for some of you this is easy (following lats and lons on a diagonal).  Annie proved to be not so good at it.  To my credit, I asked Phillip to let me helm this time on the way in while he navigated (since I did such a piss-poor job of it when we made our way into Bimini) but he said he was “in the zone.”  I would have loved to have been in his zone, because I was totally screwing up my zone. I don’t know how else to explain it other than a brain fart.

For some reason I was watching and monitoring the lats just fine, counting each degree as one, but stupidly my brain decided to attribute ten degrees to every one on the lons so I had us coming in almost dead from the north straight toward Morgan’s Bluff as opposed to making a wide curve to the east and coming in inside the inlet.  

This is the actual, natural channel you should take into Morgan’s Bluff.
This is the haphazard path I had us on which was littered with little “x’s” on the chart to mark rocks. : O

Once I realized my mistake I could see we were weaving through some rocks along our path toward the harbor with no seemingly safe space to turn around, so there was just nothing we could do but hope the rocks were deep enough not to cause any problems.  That was one of the worst gut-wrenching moments I’ve had on our boat, feeling the boat rise and fall with the waves and thinking I might be the cause of our keel striking a rock.  It literally made me feel sick, and I hope I never have that feeling again (although I’m sure I will).  The only other time I’ve felt physically ill because of something that might happen to the boat was when Hurricane Nate was seemingly making its way to Pensacola in 2017.  Yuck.

I will also go ahead and admit here I didn’t disclose the full gravity of our situation to Phillip at that time for two reasons: 1) I knew we couldn’t change or improve it at that point so why worry him further, I thought; and 2) I became too distracted anyway when right as we were bashing through the hairiest part, we got a

FISH ON!!!

Isn’t that when it always happens?  Phillip and I had been trolling the entire time since we left Pensacola, all the way around the Florida Keys, across the Gulf Stream, and once again when we got into the Tongue of the Ocean, and that entire time fish after fish had bitten off our lure.  Phillip and I joked often—when people, in person or on Facebook asked whether we’d caught any fish on the trip: “Of we’ve done plenty of fishing,” we’d say.  “We just haven’t done any catching.”  And, it’s true.  We lost lure after lure to those feisty fish in the Gulf.  I had to laugh thinking all those hours we spent when we were sailing over tothe Bahamas, in calm seas just watching the fishing line hoping for a bite, reeling it in time and again “just to check” we’d say, and throwing it back out. Any of those times would have been the perfect time to snag a big fish.  But, no, Neptune has to throw one our way when we’re beating and bashing along, off of the safe path (thanks Annie), making our way into a new, unknown harbor.  That’s the perfect time to be hauling in a fish!  

So, haul we did!  I took the helm and Phillip started pulling slowly and steadily winding our hand reel in.  I will say I was grateful for the excitement of the fish in that moment to dissipate some of my boat nerves.  In that sense the fish was a blessing.  But, boy was he a monster?!  Here’s one quick little video of him popping out of the water.

The first time I saw him zip to the outside of the boat, breach the surface and sink back down, I knew he was big.  Phillip could tell by how hard he was having to pull—using his entire body to arch back to get some length in the line so he could then fold the hand reel over to get another 10 inches on the guy.  

It was a slow and steady fight but Phillip finally brought him close enough where I could try to gaff him, which can be very hard to do with a fighting monster three feet below you, on a bobbing, swaying boat.  But I finally got him right under the gills and by some wicked twist of fate it was at that very moment the hook came out of his mouth, which meant my gaff was the onlything standing between us and the biggest fish we’ve ever seen behind Plaintiff’s Rest.  I was terrified he was going to kick and flail and fight his way off—and, believe me, he tried—but I kept turning the hook in hopes it would hold—and, thankfully, it DID!  When I hauled that bloody beast over the lifesling (leaving a nasty bloody trail on it but I didn’t give a you-know-what) and flopped him into the cockpit floor, Phillip let out a “Holy crap, that guy is huge!”  And he was.  That was the biggest fish we have caught to date on Plaintiff’s Rest.  He was as long as my leg!  And, that’s not a tall fish tale.  We have proof!  

That photo, however, was the second picture I made Phillip take because I wanted to capture the full length of that guy before I hacked him up and, in trying to do so the first time, the fish flipped off my gaff right when Phillip clicked the camera. So, we captured a fish in mid-air!

It was such a wild, heart-pumping moment pulling that guy in while bashing our way into Andros, scary but fun, frightening but exhilarating.  Cruising often feels like that.  All the times between the leisure, lavish cocktails-and-bikini days.  How did my friend Pat define cruising?  Oh yeah: Serene, tropical days interspersed with moments of sheer terror.  Yeah, that about sums it up.  Oh, that and the fish!  I made a bloodbath of our cockpit cleaning that big boy up.  

But look at that filet. It’s bigger than my thigh!  (And I’ve got some meaty thighs!)

As Phillip and I often do when we catch a fish that big, we cut up equally-sized (to the best of our ability) filets and bag some for the fridge, but more for the freezer so we can enjoy fresh fish at any time during our travels.  The Mahi we cooked up that night, was probably some of the best fish we had during our entire trip to the Bahamas.  (I’m sure the sheer terror of the moment combined with the monstrous fight getting him into the boat, followed by the hour-long cleaning of the fish, then the boat had some impact on the flavor, but it was a well-earned reward).  

And, I kid you not, that fish fed Phillip and I, two filets each (at least, sometimes 2-3), six dinners over during our Bahamas trip.  It had to be 8-9 pounds of edible fish.  That guy was such a blessing!  A long-awaited one, and certainly a wildly ill-timed one, but a blessing all the same! 

Thank you Neptune!!

Next up, we’ll share one of our favorite new places in the Bahamas.  A spot Phillip and I never thought we would stop at this trip but one we cannot wait to go back to explore further: the beautiful, untouched, but well-resourced, Andros.  Stay tuned!

My Best De-Docking Yet!

My Best De-Docking Yet!

anniedike

Man am I proud to tell this story.  You all know what a stupidly frightening part of cruising docking has been for me. I’ve shared many times on this platform my worst fears in cruising.  Number one has to be hurricanes—the sickening feeling that everything we’ve worked so hard for could be wiped out with one callous sweep of Mother Nature’s hand (although I could never blame her with the unforgivable way humans have absolutely ravaged this earth).  Number two, however, used to be docking.  And, I do hope you noticed the phrase “used to be” there.  While I still think Phillip and I have a perfectly admirable healthy fear of docking, after this last voyage to the Bahamas, I think I finally knocked docking down a rung or two where it now resides under heavy weather sailing and running aground.  Number five is running out of booze.  Always has. Always will be.  

Ahoy crew!  When I last left you here on the blog, Phillip and I had just experienced our best and worst days on the trip in Bimini, Bahamas. Well, I have to admit this docking day would probably rank up there as well, at least in one of the top five best days of our trip for sure.  It was when we de-docked after staying five days in Bimini.  (And, I’ll admit I’m not even sure de-dock is a true word, but it’s an acclaimed one here at HaveWind, respected, revered, and used often!)  

Phillip and I knew, when we arrived in Bimini, that it was going to be a while before we could leave.  The GRIBS were telling us it was going to blow a hard east, southeast, upwards of 18, 20, even 25+ mph for days.  As leaving Bimini to travel anywhere else in the Bahamas would be a no-fun bash to windward, all five boats on our finger pier decided to stay in Bimini for a week to let the winds die down. And, this was no setback by any means. Bimini is a fun, funky place with several little restaurants and bars, good grocery stores (I mean, good for the Bahamas). If an island gets a boat in every week with fresh produce, you feel like you’re in heaven. There was also a stunning bluewater shore on the north side of Alice Town.

I would also be remiss if I did not mention Joe’s Conch Shack in Bimini. The fun “friendly” place, the sign says with a huge conch pasted on some even huger boobs. Yes, very friendly. But, honestly, they were. We had the honor of meeting Joe, himself, who told us his tale of how he got into the conch salad business, the many years he spent making conch salad roadside as well as table-side at fancy events, and all of the “running around” he did. “I’ve got twelve wives and fifteen kids,” Joe said. “I did my running around.” Ha haaaaa. Love that guy. And, watching him dice an onion into pieces smaller than my pinkie nails without even looking at it will blow your mind. I’ll be he’s cut somewhere north of a million onions in his life.

While it was howling, Phillip and I were grateful for the time it afforded us to really explore Bimini and immerse ourselves in the island culture. And, thankfully, when it blows, we know we also have another fantastic activity option: kitesurfing.  I will say, that is one of the best things about being a kite-surfing-cruiser.  Usually sailors like to sail in winds of 10-15, often downwind in the direction they want to travel, but we all know it’s not very often those two things happen: wind in the right speed and the right direction.  So, for many cruisers, days of winds of 20+ that would be on the nose, force them to stay hunkered down in their boats with little to do on the water. 

This is one circumstance where being able to kite-surf truly gives Phillip and I an exceptional alternative. When the wind is too rough to sail, it often lends us the perfect conditions to tear it the *bleep* up on the kite!  And, we do get a lot of looks from folks in the marina, biding time in their cockpits, wishing the wind would die down, watching us walk back and forth with all of our kite gear and, if they can see us on the water, watching us zip and slide while riding the kite—often with a face of envy.  I will not lie in saying Phillip and I kind of like that face.  It reminds us how much the work and investment we put into learning how to kite and acquiring the gear to be able to take it with us on the boat so we can kite while cruising was 100% worth it.  

In Bimini, we were lucky to have an awesome dock neighbor, Justin, docked right next to us at BlueWater Marina who turned out to be a professional photographer with some high-end equipment. He and his sweet girlfriend, Rosie, spent a couple of very fun afternoons capturing photos of me and Phillip kitesurfing, offering us some of the best pictures Phillip and I have ever seen of ourselves kitesurfing, and we were super grateful.  And, it seemed a fun way for them to pass the time on the dock while the wind was hammering us in Bimini.  Many thanks to Justin and Rosie for these amazing kitesurfing photos!

But, when many cruisers are waiting for the winds to settle down so they can make the jump to the next location, they often all seize the same weather window to leave.  When the forecast finally showed a lighter south wind day, all five boats on our finger pier decided to leave the following morning—some headed east toward Nassau and beyond, others headed west across the Gulf Stream back to the states.  The next day we were all gathered and walking the dock early, ready to help toss lines and make sure each boat got off safely.  I love that comradery and generosity among cruisers.  

The first boat off the dock was a Catalina 42 on the farthest dock out near the channel.  The winds were blowing a light ESE not expected to have much effect on the boats so we were all anticipating fairly easy shove-offs.  That was the idea anyway … 

NOTE: No boats were substantially harmed in this de-docking or the remake.

The Catalina came off the dock no problem.  With five hands on the dock helping to ease the boat out, everything was going very smoothly.  The captain then began to back the boat up a bit further and turn his stern to his left (the north) so he could then shift to forward and navigate his way out between the two finger piers.  

As he was backing up, however, the wind and current was clearly impacting him more than he anticipated.  The captain and his mate were waving and saying goodbyes not quite aware of how quickly his port side was nearing the dock.  Then we heard him shout, “The wind’s got me!” when he realized how far his boat had drifted toward the finger piers and pilings he had just escaped.  

Everyone on the dock immediately began running either to the stern of their own boat to fend off or to the end of a finger pier and we all began pushing on the Catalina anywhere we could—the toe rail, stanchion posts, the stern.  It was like a human assembly line working the boat off the dock at each contact point.  

And, despite a few light bumps, our team of five was soon able to get the boat moving safely back in the middle of the aisle between the finger piers.  

Whew! we all breathed collectively.  

Next up to leave was the Benneteau to the right (south) of Plaintiff’s Rest.  This was the boat owned by Justin and his lovely girlfriend, Rosie, who had taken our kitesurfing photos.  Phillip and I and the rest of our de-docking team were up on the dock and ready to help them with their lines.  Thankfully, again, everything went smoothly as Justin exited the slip.  He started backing up and turning his stern to the north to navigate his way out.  I remember someone saying, “Alright, this one’s got it.”  To which I responded: “It’s not over yet!”  

I didn’t mean to jinx them but, unfortunately, just as the Catalina captain had done, as Justin and Rosie were farewelling and saying goodbyes, Justin’s Benneteau was drifting perilously close to the dock.  When Justin realized how close he was, we all could see the whites of his eyes as the folks on the dock ran through the same drill we had just been through, fending the Benneteau off at every stern, finger pier, and piling we could reach and—again—it took a five-man team to keep the bumps light and get the boat moving safely again.    

Having watched both of those boats de-dock, I knew I was in for it.  Phillip and I had decided at the beginning of this trip that we were going to split helm duties 50-50.  It didn’t matter the conditions or if the various entrances, anchorages, or docks seemed trickier than others, if it was “your day to helm” it was simply your day to helm.  Sailor up and grab the wheel.  

Well, today was my day. 

After we saw the first two boats bump their way out of the marina, Phillip asked me if I wanted to let him take the boat off the dock that day and I said no.  I had to man up.  This was our deal.  And, I did feel much more confident in my de-docking skills at that point.  I mean, I haven’t side-skidded into a tiny slip with cross winds and current … yet, but I had done my fair share of some backing up and maneuvering—even in tiny spaces where the docking was not super easy.  Marathon, FL was one example where I had to make several circles before I could get turned the way I wanted to and docked on the fuel dock, and I felt in control and calm the entire time.  Primarily, I was now much better at using thrust, forward, reverse, and the rudder to move the boat the way I intended.  There was no getting out of it.  It was my day.  But, I did have one condition: “I want that beefy guy on the dock helping when we leave,” I told Phillip.  

That beefy guy is Scott. He and Heather from www.cheapasstravelers.com on s/v Amun-Ra, a beautiful 37-foot Endeavour, cruise with their incredibly well-mannered dog, Jetson.  

They were a lot of fun to hang out with on the dock while we were in Bimini and they’re both cockpit-fitness gurus, which Phillip and I can appreciate.  Cruising is a lot easier and way more fun if you’re fit, and they both definitely are.  But, with the number of boats left on the dock dwindling and Scott having shouldered the brunt of the boat-shoving that morning, I definitely wanted to leave while he was still there.  So Phillip and I checked the fluids, cranked, and readied the boat to leave while we still had some strong hands on deck for help.  I didn’t want to need the help, but I darn sure wanted it there if I did happen to need it.  

Thankfully, the docking debacles of the previous two boats that had just left had taught me a lot.  They are both able captains and were just surprised by the swift force of the current in the marina.  I definitely had the benefit of hindsight and experience. The lesson was: back way the heck up before shifting to forward and throttling my ass off to get out of there. That was my plan anyway.  And, it was one that would have served me far better had I done that during my most memorable (and emotional) de-docking: my first one, where I almost ripped one of our shrouds off and suffered a teary come-apart afterward.  If you haven’t seen that awesomely-raw footage, please feel free to view it, the first video in the article, here.  You’re welcome.  

I was not going to make that mistake again.  Nuh-uh.  No way.  Not Captain Annie.

I kicked it in reverse and the 2-3 folks left on the dock helped our boat off and tossed Phillip the last of the lines.  I kept backing up, backing up, and backing up, until I could see the whites of Phillip’s eyes worried I had gone too far.  I could tell he was trying not to say anything, but he finally caved. “Don’t go back too far,” he said.  But, I have to tell you I relished in this moment.  

There have been many times where Phillip was at the helm, and I was at the bow, feeling unsure of the boat’s movement, what hold the conditions may have on it, or whether Phillip had the control I desperately hoped he did.  And the reason I did not know any of that is because I was not at the helm.  Holding the helm tells you everything you need to know about how the boat is responding.  In that moment I knew.  I knew I needed to go a bit further back and I could feel the minute I put it in forward, the boat was going to start lunging back toward the piers on my port side.  It’s hard to explain, but I could just … feel it.  “Just a bit more,” I told Phillip.  “I see it,” referring to the boats and piers I was coming perilously close to behind me.  

When I felt I had got as close as I safely could to the finger piers behind me on starboard, I then threw her in forward and gunned the shit out of that thing.  

Brandon would have called me a “throttle jockey” and boy was I one that day! I’ve never throttled that thing so hard!  I revved her up, threw the wheel over hard to starboard, and rocketed out of that marina without hitting a thing.  

Scott, Heather, if you’re reading this: while I’m so glad I didn’t need you on the dock that day, I’m so grateful you were there.  This one goes out to all the cruisers who have run to help a struggling boat while docking or de-docking, because you know that is going to be you someday and you will want every hand on deck possible to wrestle your boat to safety.  

It was a pretty cool feeling that day to be the first boat that didn’t bump on the way out (thanks mostly to experience and hindsight, that always helps) and to be the only female among the boats that had left from our pier so far that day to do it.  Rosie the Riveter would be proud.  Phillip sure was too, grinning from ear to ear as we pulled out into the channel in Bimini, unscathed. Whew! Another de-docking behind us.  And, Heather from CheapAssTravelers was conveniently walking around at the north tip of the island, where we kited, as we motored by, and she snapped a few pics of us heading out that day.  Thank you Heather!  

Despite my small accomplishment in successfully de-docking, however, I cannot claim the Most Badass Female Award that day.  Ironically, while I thought it was quite a big deal I had got off the dock without a scratch—with five hands helping and a two-member crew—we later learned another female that morning had de-docked entirely alone, while traveling single-handed, AND sailed her boat solo across the Gulf Stream back to the states.  I mean … damn.  

It was such an honor to meet Jessie from Kate and Jessie On a Boat which was a very popular series in Bob Bitchin’s Cruising Outpost magazine in 2017.  Jessie is now married to a right and witty English chap named Luke, and the two of them had just completed their first Atlantic circle as their honeymoon which they concluded in Bimini.  Yes, you read that right: first two-crew offshore ocean-crossing + honeymoon. I mean … Yes, I had to keep saying that when I was around her.  Jessie is just so stinkin’ impressive!  While Luke had to ferry back to the states to check in, Jessie sailed herself ALONE across the Gulf Stream and into Miami.  She cracked me up with her reasoning: “I’ve sailed across the Atlantic Ocean twice, and Luke was asleep half the time, so I’ve practically crossed the Atlantic alone. I’m sure I can do this.”  That girl.  This one goes out to you Jessie, and your incredible feat!  You can follow Jessie and Luke’s continued adventures at www.instagram.com/jessiebrave and www.onaboat.net. 

We’ve got more fun Bahamas stories and lessons to share here with you next time at HaveWind.  Next up, we make our way across the Grand Bank and have one of our biggest scares and wildest moments (of course they happen at the same time) outside of Andros.  Stay tuned!

More photos from our time in Bimini – enjoy!

Our Best Day and Worst Day, Both in Bimini

Our Best Day and Worst Day, Both in Bimini

anniedike

It’s a small boat, right?  I mean, I know it depends on whether you’re getting tossed around in some gnarly sea conditions. Then 35-feet is quite a small boat, way too small.  You’d much rather be on a 900-foot cargo ship then.  On the other hand, when you’re docking in wind or current and you’re barreling toward a slip that looks like the mere eye of a needle that you’re expected to actually fit your boat into, she’s quite a big boat then, 35-feet is way too big to fit in that tiny slot without hitting every piling and other boat on the way in.  But, there’s also another time the boat seems a bit too small: when you’re in an argument with your one other crew member.  

I mentioned this moment in my Birthday Tribute: 37 reasons (to match my proud 37 years!) why this past voyage to the Bahamas was one of our best yet.  It was the fight Phillip and I got into when we were navigating our way into Bimini. This was after a very (I hate to say it, but sometimes it just is – luck runs both ways) easy Gulf Stream crossing from Marathon, Phillip and I were making our way into the BIMINI entrance (as shown on the Explorer Charts – do not do the Bahamas without them) when things went sideways.  

As I said before, nothing needs to be re-hashed, but it was one of the most heated moments Phillip and I have had on the boat.  And, for us, those are exceedingly rare.  Honestly, in the six years we’ve been sailing together, I can count the number of arguments Phillip and I have had, where we actually raised our voices on the boat, on one hand.  And, that’s not meant to be boastful.  I know many couples vary greatly from us and many have their own dynamic, their own way of communicating and showing their love and passion for one another, and for conveying their anger or disappointment.  Many couples fight often (and often it’s lightheartedly although their words are still sharp).  Spats are just a part of their discourse and that works for them.  That does not work for Phillip and me.  

All evidence to the contrary, I am exceedingly anti-confrontational.  I get nervous and shaky at the thought of having to argue with someone I love, which often results in me doing a piss-poor job of standing up for myself and persuasively stating my position.  I know what you’re probably thinking.  But she was a lawyer.  I said “with someone I love.”  When it’s opposing counsel on the other side, just another lawyer just doing his job, too, then look the heck out.  I’m a tiger.  But, that’s worlds away from having an argument with Phillip.  With Phillip, I turn into a sniffly puddle of goo when I have to confront him.  But I’m proud to say I did not this time.

Bottom line was, I screwed up plotting the coordinates in real-time as we were coming in via the BIMINI waypoint on the Explorer Charts.  By the time I realized my mistake, I had us closer to the breakers to the south of the entrance than either of us would have liked. 

And, let’s see what you guys can make of this.  In my state of confused worry and fear, trying to convey to Phillip that I might have had him holding too much a southern line as he was sailing toward the entrance I said:

“You’ve gone too far east.  You need to go north.”  

Makes perfect sense, doesn’t it?  What, really? That’s crazy talk??

Phillip’s face probably looked something like yours does now.  “We’re going east,” he said deadpan.  “East is the goal until we get into the channel.”  Then I blundered and muttered and tried to show him coordinates on the chart while he’s trying to hand-steer under sail into the entrance, a very wise time to put charts in front of his face, don’t you think?  Yeah, he didn’t think so either.  

Needless to say some harsh words came my way which I deserved but did not take well. But, Phillip and I know when to put a disagreement aside for a later date so we can (pardon my French) get shit done in the moment.  Despite my goof, we made it into the channel just fine and were navigating perfectly north through the channel into Bimini.  Now it was time to find our marina (we had decided to stay at Blue Water Marina, a nice middle-ground choice between Brown and Big Game we thought), hale the dockmaster, locate our slip, and get docked.  There would always be time to discuss our little tiff later.  So, that’s what we did.  

Phillip did a great job docking the boat, with great help from a very friendly chap on the dock.  The dockhands in the Bahamas are all so helpful and friendly!  Then, later, after some steam had worn off, I mustered up some goo-prevention strength and found the courage to tell Phillip, without sniffles, that I was just trying to keep the boat off the breakers to the south and that he had hurt my feelings.  And, he, rightfully explained how consumed he was in the moment and how my north-west mumbo-jumbo was, quite frankly, a disappointment.  But, we talked it out, then we made up, joined hands and sang Kumbaya. 

I’m kidding.  Although there is, and will always be, random song outbursts on Plaintiff’s Rest.  Ironically, we learned later that the BIMINI entrance on the Explorer Charts suffers from continual shoaling on the south side of the North Bimini Entrance Point. So, my blunder probably kept us off of that unknown shoaling to the north.  Oh the irony!  But, that is just another great example of the lack of any need to get flustered or high-and-mighty while cruising.  Mistakes are just par for the course and sometimes they prove—with the benefit of hindsight—to not even be mistakes at all.  Some turn out to be happy accidents that save your hide. Or hull, as the case may be.

But, what was most ironic about having a fight make that day—our very first day in the Bahamas (which probably had Phillip and I both silently worried about how the rest of this voyage was going to go) one of our worst on the boat was that the next day turned out to be our best day of the voyage.  Cruising is funny that way in how quickly things can turn good or bad.  I think that’s a huge part of what makes you feel so alive out there.  

Everything is so volatile.  Whether or not things are going to go as planned (when you can even plan them), whether you’ll get into some unexpected weather, whether you’ll be able to safely find where you’re going, and whether that place will be a total dud or absolutely obliterate every expectation you had for it is always up in the air. Every outcome is waiting to be lived to see how it turns out.  None of them can in any way be predicted.  I’m hoping that makes sense to those of you reading who have not yet gone cruising and are just in the planning and plotting phases of it. Because, to me, the unexpectedness of it all, the IN-ability to plan your days and adventures is what makes it even better.  

Case in point: our best day in the Bahamas was the very next day in Bimini. Phillip—my Paddington Bear, the best travel buddy you can possibly have (sorry, he’s taken)—surprised me with a booked charter dive our very first full day in Bimini.  “We’re going to dive the Sapona!” he said.  I had no clue what a sapona was, but I didn’t care.  I was going diving!  “Awesome! My first sapona!” I squealed, which made Phillip chuckle.  He loves me ‘cause I’m blonde. (Sorry, I’m taken, too.)  Turns out, there’s only one Sapona, so this was my first and last, but I learned all about the Saponaon the boat ride out to our dive spot and was fascinated by its rich history. 

The SS Sapona, a cargo steamer, was part of a fleet of concrete ships built at the directive of Woodrow Wilson for use during World War I.  After the War, it was sold to a Miami developer who used it initially as a casino, then later for oil storage.  It was then sold to another developer in 1924 who used it to store alcohol during the Prohibition, but with plans to turn it into a floating nightclub thereafter. Unfortunately, the Sapona ran aground near Bimini during a hurricane in 1926 and broke apart.  Now, sitting in only 15 feet of water and having amassed an impressive fish and marine life population, it is a popular dive spot for professional charter dive boats and cruisers in the Bahamas.  You can learn more about the fascinating SS Sapona here.

It was an incredible dive with lots of nooks and crannies for fish to hide. We saw a stingray bigger than a circle I can make with both arms, a nurse shark, my very first puffer fish (and his little puffer kid!).  It was a baby puffer fish that I wanted to adopt but the dive guys vetoed it.  The huge prop and anchor of the Saponathat are partially submerged were both mesmerizing and a little haunting at the same time.  Anytime I see a man-made structure sunk underwater, I get a bit of a creepy feeling thinking the ghosts that went down with it are still there.  Do underwater planes or boats ever give any of you that feeling?  I have to brave up a little before I can swim my whole body into a sunken structure for that reason, thinking the ghost in there might grab me and never let me back up! 

What I didn’t know, however, until we completed the dive and I saw people scaling the side of the Sapona and climbing on top was that people jumped off this thing!  It’s like rite of Bimini passage.  I mean …  What did I say on the back of my Salt of a Sailor book?  

“I leapt off cliffs.”  Or old, grounded cargo steamers, as the case may be.  Phillip knew there was no way he was going to keep me from jumping off that boat.  And, boy was it a rickety climb up to the top, a plaintiff’s lawyer’s dream!  But, while we both made it, Phillip declined to scale his way to the tippity top like I did.  I didn’t call him the p-word, but you know I was thinking it.  Ha!  Sorry. You can take the Tomboy out of the backwoods, but you can’t take the Tomboy out of the girl. I scrambled my way up to the upper most point and lunged high and wide out into the 40-foot drop.  It was awesome!  I hadn’t jumped from a height that high since college and it was invigorating.  

But, this “high” still was not the highest high of that day.  I mean, Phillip and I had some pretty freaking amazing days in the Bahamas.  It was very hard to select this one, but looking back after the trip, we both did.  Do you want to know why?  

Because that day we swam with sharks!  

Not just one shark, or even just a handful of sharks, we swam with dozens of them! Right by us!  All around us!  And, this was nothing like the tank dive Phillip (again, another surprise, love that Paddington!) took me on in Tampa at the Florida Aquarium.  Awesome video of that dive for you here.  You’re welcome!

These sharks weren’t in a tank.  They didn’t swim with humans in their quarters every day.  They were out there in the open water, allowed to do whatever the heck they wanted, which would include gnawing on humans.  Granted, these sharks were somewhat “trained” in that this dive boat stopped often to take swimmers down with them and always fed them afterward.  No comment on that practice.  I’m just grateful it allowed Phillip and I a truly unforgettable encounter with one of the most majestic and important animals in our oceans.  My biggest take-away from that aquarium dive with the sharks was not simply the accomplishment of braving up and swimming with them but the education and enlightenment as to the true nature of sharks, their docile temperament, the need for them in our oceans, and the unfortunate, very human-like tragedy of the greedy plunder with which we trap, maim and needlessly kill them.  It is just sad and inexcusable.  We are not the victim, nor the prey.  Sharks are.

So, when our dive boat made an unexpected stop after rounding all of us divers and snorkelers (and jumpers!) up from the Saponaat “Shark Alley” on the way back to Bimini—the waters around our boat teeming with big black, swirling creatures—and the captain asked any of us, jokingly, if we wanted to go for a swim, Phillip and I said “Absolutely!” and started donning our masks.  

Yes, we arethose crazy people who swim with sharks.  All told there were about 15-20 reef sharks, ranging from five to maybe eight-feet long.  Big, beautiful creatures that maneuvered around us with surprising ease.  While they seemed a little curious, they didn’t seem at all hostile.  They were just swimming, waiting on their reward of a fish feast afterward.  Phillip and I were the only divers to dive down with the dive guide and stand on the bottom, still as a piling, while they circled around us.  It was an incredible, unforgettable dive. 

And, it was really fun to watch the boat crew feed the sharks afterward to see what they are capable of, but thankfully did not do while we were down there.  The swirling mass of them, circling and sliding around and over one another to gracefully inhale each piece of fish thrown in.  It was mesmerizing!  Video Annie joked: “What?  You don’t want to go for a swim?”  

And, speaking of Video Annie, I don’t have any footage to show you of the sharks because another great thing happened on that, the best day of our voyage: my GoPro broke.  Yep. It went kaput.  No pulse.  No battery. It simply would not turn on after the Saponajump.  And, for a moment I was frantically trying to pull the battery out and put it back in to reboot it while the dive guide was getting us ready to go down with the sharks, and I was frustrated and irritated and cursing it.  Then, something just clicked inside and I said, “f*ck it.”  I have mentioned many timeson this platform my dread of losing the power and feeling of a moment because I was more worried about filming it than living it.  GoPro’s death that day relieved me of that worry on that fantastic day.  With the ability to film no longer even an option, there was nothing to stop me from just jumping in, camera-free, and recording it all up here.  (Yep, I’m sure you can imagine me tapping my temple.  Right here, in the thinktank, my memory bank.)  So, I could then, in my own time, put it into spellbinding words later for myself and for you all here.  I believe in words.  And that was such a freeing feeling.  I then knew I would never have to wrestle with that decision at any other point during our Bahamas voyage.  GoPro simply wiped that worry away and silently told me: “Go.  Just live it.  Keep this just for you two.”  So, that’s what we did. And, for that, we thank him.  R.I.P. GoPro.

Next up, we’ll share our fantastic experience kite-surfing in Bimini (complete with incredible footage and photos taken by a dock neighbor there at Blue Water Marina – thank you Justin!) and our exciting sail over to Andros where we caught our first monster fish of the trip!  Stay tuned. 

Birthday Tribute: 37 Reasons Why This Past Voyage Was Our Best Yet

Birthday Tribute: 37 Reasons Why This Past Voyage Was Our Best Yet

anniedike

Reason No. 1: My GoPro Broke Our First Day in the Bahamas.

Why is that a good thing? Because it was the universe telling me to just live in the moment—to see, taste, and feel it, rather than film it. Ahoy crew! Now that Phillip and I have completed our Bahamas cruise and tucked in safe for hurricane season, I’m excited to share all of the fun stories and photos from our incredible Bahamas voyage with you all here on the blog. I decided—as a fitting birthday tribute (this little sailor turned a proud 37 on May 28th : )—to first share the 37 highs and lows that Phillip and I have agreed made this last voyage to the Bahamas our best trip yet. The reasons might surprise you. Remember: it’s usually not the cocktails and sunsets you remember the most.

No. 2: We Had a Great Send-Off

  • Our friends in Pensacola are keepers, I will tell you that. Brandon made (try to wrap your head around this) bacon-wrapped, beer-battered onion rings along with a massive rack of ribs, well mainly just as a Saturday BBQ—that man loves to grill—but Phillip and I commandeered it as our “send-off feast” and it was incredible! Our buddy (and original boat broker, who helped us find our Niagara 35), Kevin, also brought us a nice bottle of champagne (complete with its own boat bubble packing!), and we had one rip-roaring last hoorah at our favorite Ft. McRee anchorage before leaving. Yes, those glasses do say “Party Rock!”

No. 3: We Had Two Captains Aboard

  • Double the knowledge, experience, and credentials; double the ease of cruising. Nuff said. With both of us now equally capable of steering, navigating, AND docking, Phillip and I both felt an increased sense of confidence when we left the dock in April.

No. 4: We Had Plenty of Wine

No. 5: We Had Plenty of Storage Space for Said Wine

No. 6: We Scored on Salsa!

  • Yes, salsa is serious on our boat. I always prefer it at room temp (and, yes, I have eaten a whole jar in one sitting to enjoy the full-warm goodness before it went into the flavor-sucking hole that is the fridge. We also always try to reduce foods we bring on the boat that have to be refrigerated, so when we found these perfect single-serving sized cans at Wal-Mart that taste like they were just chopped on a beach-side salsa stand, we were stoked! These guys made for a wonderfully-tasty treat often on Plaintiff’s Rest and we were able to reduce trash by throwing the cans overboard when we were underway offshore! Win-win. What do you say? “Arriba!!”

No. 7: We Got Lucky (on a Weather-Window)

  • While Phillip and I both often readily agree it is rare to find a perfect “good” downwind five-day weather window across the Gulf, we did find a rather peachy four-day one that suited us just fine. While our first day out of the gate was a bit sporty, I’m excited to tell you in a future post how well our baby girl performed in 20 knots of wind (albeit on the stern—my favorite kind) and 6-8 (sometimes 10) foot seas. It was a romp. Whew!

No. 8: Despite a Last-Minute Breakdown, Lord Nelson Held the Entire Time

  • This is my next story coming up on the blog: Auto Turn Notto: The Problem That Almost Prevented Our Departure. It’s quite an interesting saga. It never ceases to amaze me how often massive problems (the auto-pilot is not working) are caused by the tiniest of conditions (a bolt is not tightened or a connection is loose, for example). But, Phillip and I certainly learned a ton about our hydraulic auto-pilot in the process, and we hope you will too. After solving this problem—we *hope*—we now have Lord Nelson running in a condition that will last us ten more years of cruising. That was our hope when he had Brandon with Perdido Sailor help us install him during our extended stay in the shipyard back in 2016.
Screenshot from Shipyard Video #69: Meet Our Hydraulic Auto-Pilot “Mr. Roboto”

No. 9: We Left Under the Most Beautiful Sunrise I Have Ever Photographed

No. 10: We Had Another Successful, Safe Gulf-Crossing

  • Crossing the Gulf of Mexico is no friggin’ joke. Phillip and I have told many, many cruisers that, despite our multiple Atlantic-Ocean crossings, the Gulf still ranks as one of the most gnarly bodies of water we have crossed, often packing the worst punch. We have spent too many a day and night bashing and crashing across the Gulf. So, anytime we have a successful, no damage, no injuries crossing of the Gulf of Mexico, we will happily and unapologetically celebrate it. Ahhhh ...

No. 11: We Were Only in Foulies for One Day

  • Previous Gulf-Crossings, particularly those undertaken in November or December have seen us in stinky, sweaty fouls for days. Yuck! Phillip and I were thrilled this time, leaving later in the year (April), to start pulling off those foul (in many ways) layers, just north of Tampa!

No. 12: We Got in a Massive Fight in Bimini

  • Doesn’t sound like a good thing, does it? Well it’s not when you’re in the thick of it. But, if you come out stronger and closer on the other side, it’s worth it. Couples have to fight occasionally to let the steam out and regroup. I had made a stupid error in my lat-lon navigation trying to help Phillip (who was holding the helm at the time) into the entrance to Bimini (bad on me) but Phillip responded with a comment that cut me to the core (bad on him). And, it doesn’t need to be repeated. It wasn’t an expletive, just hurtful. But, the upside was my response. While I usually swallow that hurt down, trying not to “rock the boat” so to speak, I knew Phillip and I had many tight-quarter days ahead on the boat, so I spoke up and let it out so we could vent and heal and it was the right decision. I’m getting better at this adult stuff, I’m telling you!

No. 13: We Got Stuck in Bimini

  • Again, doesn’t sound like a good thing, right? For Phillip and I—who really like to stay on the move when we’re cruising, staying usually only 2-3 days in one place before moving onto the next—a forced five-day stay in one place can be a bit of a bugger. Buuuuttt, that is only true when there’s no wind there or no good place to kite. If it’s blowing like stink for days and we have the ability to kite, Phillip and I are happy to park it and get on that wind. We spent three glorious days in a row kiting the snot out of 20-25+ winds in Bimini. It was awesome!

No. 14: We Failed (Initially) at Fishing …

  • Shouldn’t sound like a good thing, either? No “fish on” to shout about. For the first week of our cruising, when we were doing most of our offshore voyaging and expecting to catch most of our fish, Phillip and I didn’t catch a damn thing. Those crafty fish stole lure after lure, laughing at us the entire time. But, it was this extended fish failure that made our first catch that much sweeter.

No. 15: Then We Caught Our Biggest Mahi Ever!

  • It was glorious. That beautiful bounty of the sea fed us six times over, three filets a piece. I’m not kidding. Neptune rewarded our initial failed attempts in droves.

No. 16: The Weather Forced Us to a New Place

  • Morgan’s Bluff! Have any of you been there? While Phillip and I were not sure whether we were going to stop in Andros this year, as the Exumas were certainly calling (and while I would not call it a “schedule” per se, as commuter cruisers, we do have limited time and have to make destination decisions accordingly), the weather made the decision for us. Coming into the Northwest Providence Channel, the wind turned more southeast than we anticipated and began building to 18 and upwards—not a comfortable wind speed on the nose on our boat. So, it was either beat into that all the way to the Exumas or tuck in at Morgan’s Bluff, a place we knew nothing about but that brought us one of our most memorable moments of the entire trip:

No. 17: We Ate Our First Dilly (It’s Kind of a Big Dilly-yo)

  • This was such an unexpected and eye-opening experience. While Morgan’s Bluff does not have much to offer if you just dinghy to shore—a pretty beach and one little bar—Phillip and I were lucky enough to find a local to hire to drive us around the entire island and give us a three-hour tour (that, thankfully, did not leave us shipwrecked!). Kanendra, the dock master there at Morgan’s Bluff, along with her daughter, Diamond, took us around and showed us the cave where Captain Morgan allegedly hid his treasures, the blue hole (where the limestone core has fallen through and you can dive straight through to the ocean), the cute little resort bungalows you can rent, along with the extensive devastation that still exists from Hurricane Matthew. It was enlightening and incredibly interesting. And, Diamond, herself, a child of only eight, was adamant about sharing a particular experience with us—eating our first dilly fruit. Diamond picked this one herself and Phillip and I ate it right on the stop, getting all sticky in the process. It was the sweetest fruit I believe I’ve ever eaten and an awesome moment!

No. 18: We Did Sooooo Much Sailing

  • This surprised even us: Phillip and I sailed so much, we started to run low on battery power because we hadn’t cranked the engine in a while sailing almost the entire way from anchorage to anchorage. We were very lucky, both across the Gulf and the Stream, and with almost every island hop, to have steady winds on our stern that just pushed us along. It was incredible. Phillip and I did some of our favorite sailing, ever on our boat, on this last trip.

No. 19: We Reefed Right!

  • This was a little trick we learned from Andy Schell and Mia at 59-North. You wrap the reef line once around the boom and then tie it to allow the reef line to cinch the sail alll the way down to the boom to get a flatter, more effective reef. The days we did have to sail to windward in winds that require us to reef (generally 15 kts and up), this trick helped us put a tighter reef in and sail more comfortably to weather.
Feel free to comment on my “beanie hair” – I should have left the darn thing on – but you can see the reef trick! Thanks Andy!

No. 20: Two Weeks In, We Still Had Enough Wine!

Cheers!

No. 21: We Studied the Charts and GRIBS Together

  • I realize only now—with six years of cruising and a Captain’s License under my belt—how little help I was during mine and Phillip’s first cruising years. Sure, I was a hard worker. I crawled down into holes to try and fix things. I cooked. I cleaned. I got greasy and helped where I could. But, I never pushed myself to get knowledgeable enough about the more difficult things, like navigation, weather-watching, and making wise passage decisions. Now that I have, Phillip and I enjoy checking the weather together (that is an every morning and every afternoon event and conversation we have when we’re cruising), studying the charts, and deciding “Where to next?” together and we then share the roles navigating in. At least this way if we run-aground, we can share the blame! Let’s hope that never happens … although I’m sure it will again someday.

No. 22: We Were Exceedingly Impressed With Our Boat

  • She never ceased to amaze and impress us. Granted, Phillip and I put a lot of time and money into her and try our best to be very diligent, pro-active boat owners, but that does not mean you’re going to have a boat that performs 100% of the time. I’ll say our baby girl did everything we asked of her (which was often to run hard for 24 hours-plus under sail, engine, or both, with Lord Nelson doing all the steering) about 95% of the time. She was just a beast out there—moving comfortably in all types of weather, practically sailing herself all over the Bahamas. Pretty much every system worked, every bit of the time. While this is a HUGE reason we always strive for less, more simplistic systems on our boat, it was clear to Phillip and I, those choices (and the work they required) were totally worth it. I am immensely proud to say our boat is “dialed in.”

No. 23: We Made It to the Exumas!

  • That, in and of itself, was an accomplishment, as we were not sure our time allotment would allow it. We were not able to make it to the Exumas last year when we did the Abacos—although our diversion to the Berries brought us a fantastic encounter with new friends and an amazing experience that was the subject of my latest article in SAIL Magazine—Phillip and I both still had a desire to see and experience for ourselves the breathtaking beauty so many have told us is unique only to the Exumas. And, boy were they right. Photos just can’t capture it, but they can try!
Annie and Plaintiff’s Rest in Warderwick Wells Cay in the Exumas

No. 24: I Was Published Underway!

  • This was such a treat! To have an article of mine, “People With Gusto: the people you meet when cruising”—ironically about the Berry Islands in the Bahamas—come out in the latest SAIL Magazine while Phillip and I were sailing to the Bahamas. It was fun to be a bit of celebrity in certain marinas along the way where people had seen the article. Thanks again to Peter Nielson and the SAIL Magazine crew for running my piece!

No. 25: We Met The Amazing Jessie (from Jessie & Kate)

  • Speaking of meeting amazing people while cruising, we were lucky enough to cross paths with this inspiring young sailor/photographer: Jessie from Cruising Outpost’s “Jessie & Kate on a Boat” series. Leave a comment below if you enjoyed their articles in Cruising Outpost. Jessie was such a warm, candid person and so fun and interesting to talk to. You can imagine she and I immediately meshed and scurried to the corner to chatter like schoolgirls. I’ll admit to a little girl-crush on her; I’m not scared. Jessie is phenomenal. She and her husband, Luke, came into Bimini on the way back from their Atlantic-Circle honeymoon. I mean … damn. Reminds of the amazing Pam Wall. I am so inspired by these hearty sailing ladies! Keep it up salty gals!! You can follow Jessie’s continued adventures on Instagram at www.instagram.com/jessiebrave/.

No. 26: We Were Able to Scrub Our Own Bottom

  • Many thanks to Mantus on this one! When Phillip and I learned they had designed a smaller, more portable scuba set-up, we snagged one so we could use it during our cruising to dive a really cool reef that might be perhaps a little too deep for repeated snorkel dives and also to scrub our own bottom. This saves us about $100/month if we can do our bottom ourselves, so it has proven well-worth the investment for us. Plus, it’s convenient to have a little scuba set-up just for fun on the boat.

No. 26: We Got to Dive This!

No. 27: We Got to Cheers Everyday to Views Like This!

No. 28: We Got to Wake Every Morning to Views Like This!

No. 29: We Got To Swim Everyday In Waters Like This

No. 30: We Got to Swim With Friendly Guys Like This

No. 31: We Got to Eat Food Like This

No. 32: We Got to Walk Beaches as Amazing as This

No. 33: We Got to Harvest Our Own Conch

No. 34: We Got to Snorkel Pretty Much Every Day

No. 35: We Got to Spend an Entire Vacation With Our Best Friend

No. 36: We Had a Life-Changing Swim With a Turtle

  • I’m proud to say because I was IN the moment, not filming it, I don’t have an image, but I don’t need one. My words and memory will do it justice, just you wait. I named him Rasta because he was so chiiiilllll.

No. 37: Six Weeks In, We Still Had Enough Wine!

Cheers!

People With Gusto! Article in SAIL Magazine

People With Gusto! Article in SAIL Magazine

anniedike

If someone were to ask us what cruising is about, I’m sure Phillip and I would say the adventure, the travel, the freedom, the challenges, but I’m confident our answer would also include “the people.” The people Phillip and I have met while cruising are exceptional. Even with decades of knowledge, experience, often impressive business, military, or other worldly accomplishments, they are the most humble, helpful, resourceful people you will meet. Always at the ready to catch a dock line, share some duct tape, let you borrow their dinghy, help you fix … anything, and eager to pour you a drink and swap sea tales. These are the people Phillip and I aspire to be and that we meet everywhere we stop while cruising.

Steve and Pat, who we met last year in the Berry Islands, were no exception. I wrote People With Gusto to honor this hilarious, hospitable couple who, before they even knew us, welcomed me and Phillip into their hand-built island home, taught us how to spear fish and shared not only their bounty but their stories and their rich history with us each evening over dinner and dominos in their home. I believe Phillip and I, before we even discussed it, both felt while the Abacos were breathtaking, exciting, and memorable, our time with Steve and Pat was hands-down the highlight of our entire Bahamas trip.

This made it even more of a treat to find SAIL Magazine ran my People with Gusto article the same time Phillip and I were making our way back to the Berry Islands. He and I are out cruising right now, meeting more and more people with gusto! Many thanks to Peter Nielsen and the rest of the team at SAIL for publishing another one of my pieces. It’s such an honor! Go grab a copy of the May 2019 issue to read the article and let us know what you thought of it. Enjoy!

And, bonus points for any follower who can tell where in the Bahamas the photo above was taken! : )

My Bags Are Packed: Boat Prep for the Bahamas

My Bags Are Packed: Boat Prep for the Bahamas

anniedike

Or maybe I should say: “My Jerries are strapped.  I’m ready to go.  Standing here outside your … dorade-oh.”  I’m great with lyrics. Ahoy crew!  Phillip and I are getting excited to shove off soon for the Bahamas again.  We love that area! And, while we fell in love with the Abacos last time, we want to head back to do some more exploring in the Exumas this time, and the weather is looking good for a shove-off tomorrow morning at daybreak! We don’t know exactly where we’re going or how long we’ll stay, and we love it that way. I can tell you this: Phillip and I did not pack a schedule on the boat this time!  But, we did pack a lot of other stuff and made some changes this year on how we stock and prep the boat for offshore voyaging and island life that I thought would be helpful to share with you all.  

If you can believe it, this was our short list:

And, THIS is what your boat looks like in prep mode.  Fun stuff.  Everything is torn apart, lockers emptied, tools everywhere finishing up last minute projects.  It’s a hot mess, but totally worth it.  

The good news: One thing Phillip and I have noticed over the years as we cruise half of the year and spend the rest in Pensacola—often on the hard for a few weeks or more during that time with Brandon at Perdido Sailor making repairs or upgrades to the boat—we’re getting very good at both stripping the boat down for the yard, then stocking her back up for cruising and offshore sailing.  The more you do it, it starts to become a well-oiled routine and you get better at deciding where and how to stow things, and how to best disassemble and remove things.  I’m not ashamed to say: It feels pretty f*cking fabulous to have your boat dialed in.  There’s six years’ worth of sweat and work in that accomplishment that we’re immensely proud of. So, how do we prep our boat for offshore sailing and island cruising? Let’s dive right in!

First up, the new stuff:

Purchasing and Packing Coco Bricks for Our New Composting Head

As many of you know, Phillip and I swapped from our manual pump head to an AirHead composting head when we were in the shipyard in 2018.  

I wrote a detailed blog post about it, as well as a video showing the install and shared extensively in both of those pieces how thrilled we are with the decision. It is a much simpler, more eco-friendly system.  It takes up far less space and smells a thousand times better.  It also looks better and makes our lives simpler in so many ways.  This voyage to the Bahamas will give us a true experience of cruising with a composting head both offshore and as full-time live-aboards, so we are looking forward to that.  

But, this was a “new” item for us to pack for this year, as we needed bricks and paper filters.  We were able to purchase the bricks for a very reasonable price off of Amazon. Here is a link.  They’re about $3.50 a piece and each bricks lasts 3-4 weeks.  So, we ordered 12 from Amazon, and I am pleased to say they ALL packed nicely around our trash can in the lower section of the cabinet under the head sink.  This area:

Photo taken while I was replacing a leaking Y-valve down there.

They even prop the trash can up better so it does not topple around and makes throwing those little goodies away even easier.  We ordered the coffee filters (although I love that Airhead calls them “paper carriers” – that’s classy) from Airhead as well. I think three packs of 50 was like $12, no sweat. We also swapped to a plastic trash can down there as our previous metal one was rusting and making a mess.  You know how I feel about messes … No, Sir!  Not on Plaintiff’s Rest!

With our those stored, we are good to go with the head for, gosh, 8-9 months of cruising, if not more, depending on how much time we spend on the boat consistently using the composting head.  But, man, isn’t that a great feeling?  Never having to go to the fuel dock again just to pump out, and never having to pump out again, ever.  I’ll take it! 

Packing Out the Turd Tank Locker

Now, Phillip and I had the very awesome problem of what to store in the locker that once housed our stinky, sloshing turd tank, which is now super clean, smelling of BilgeKote and baby’s breath.  I believe it’s baby’s breath. Something sweet and inviting. See? I hopped right in!

I was surprised to see—once the holding tank was out—how BIG that space really is.  There was a shelf built in to help hold the weight of our former 25-gallon holding tank. I’m kneeling on it in the photo above. But, the area underneath that shelf is about half the size of the area you see me scrunched up in here. So, a half-Annie can fit! : )

Phillip and I haven’t even filled that lower area with anything yet.  We haven’t had the need.  Each year, we find or create more storage space on the boat (and we also learn to pack smarter and lighter) and so our storage needs seem to always be met, well, exceeded is more like it.  Now, that may change when we’re getting ready to cross an ocean, but I’m fully confident when that time comes, all of these half-full, empty, and/or yet discovered areas in our boat will easily accommodate our ocean-crossing needs.  

This area, here, however, where I’m curled up and where the holding tank used to be, is pleasantly massive!  So big, we were a bit stumped at first as to what exactly to put in it. Hence, its inclusion on our packing list. What goes there? we pondered. As Phillip and I are always trying to counter-balance more weight in the lower and aft parts of the boat—to offset our 200 pounds of chain in the bow—we planned to stock lighter goods here, and I was shocked to see the following fit in this locker, with room to spare:

Our storm sail (aptly named Stormy McDaniels : )

3 (yes three!) 12-packs of toilet paper (yes, 36 rolls is extreme overkill, but we have the space for it and … that’s not something we really want to risk running out of)

6 rolls of paper towels

2 blue rolls of shop towels

And, a beach-sized bag of some of our more bulky epoxy project pieces (bins to mix epoxy, paint stirrers, random containers, rubber gloves, etc.)

All right there.  And, in the lockers further forward of this one under the vberth we were able to stow all of our extra lines (about 12-14 I’d say … many of them I have no clue what they could or should be used to do, but hey, we got ‘em!), the ShopVac, spare sheets, work towels, an extra set of dock lines (in case we have to tie off for a big storm), as well as ALL of our kite-surfing gear: (3 kites, harnesses, bars and a pump).  All of that is right here under my rump!

We were replacing our old fans with those awesome Caraframo fans here, but you can see the mound of chain behind me in the anchor chain locker that we are always trying to counter-balance.

You see what I mean?  It’s like our boat can’t get enough!  Whatever we dump in she seems to swallow it whole and shut the lid.  Got it?  Anything else? she asks.  Love that gal.  And, because we installed a watertight floor in the anchor chain locker during our extensive stint on the hard in 2016 (check out our Shipyard Video “No More Water in the Bilge!”) and ran a hose carrying the anchor chain water to our sump box in the center bilge, every locker forward of the center bilge is a DRY locker. 

Bone dry.  I’ll never regret that tedious, but well-worth-it project. 

What else was new?

New Storage Cubbies in the Bilge

So, this was fun.  During our voyage to Cuba in 2016 and to the Bahamas in 2017, Phillip and I began utilizing these spaces under the main floorboard in our saloon.

You can see our batteries are mounted here (which provides great access for their periodic water-filling) and the frame for the batteries provided two nice bilge cubbies on starboard where we stow bigger, less frequently used tools and other supplies.  Utilizing those bins effectively on our Bahamas Voyage in 2017 inspired me to create two more further forward.  I used the Brandon cardboard-cutout method (patent pending) to create templates (because boats are never square or perfect) and we then cut the necessary pieces out of starboard (conveniently from a piece that was leftover from our “potty platform” Brandon called it—the big square piece we used to make the platform under our composting head.  So, it turned out to be a great re-use of readily available resources.  

Isn’t it funny how you carry little leftovers and things along like that because someday you just might need them.  You may be wrong, and they may seem “in the way” many, many times, but you know (you just know!) the minute you throw it out, you’ll need it.  Thankfully, we held onto the remainder of our “potty platform” it seemed for this very reason.  These two new cubbies served us perfectly by housing large and small bottles of water (we bring a good bit of drinking water when we cruise) as well as three bags of wine and 3 mini 12-packs of sodas.  

Stowing the Goods!

Phillip and I have found so many new places to pack food and drinks these past few years on our boat. And, once we discovered them, I—of course!—the next time we hauled out, dumped them and slathered them with Bilgekote (I love Bilgekote : ) so they are clean and smell amazing.  Surprisingly, we store a huge amount of food around our water tank on the port side.  There is also a cubby aft of the water tank that usually houses ALL of our canned goods, if not other things like sodas, coffee, rice, and any kind of pantry item. 

This also helps balance out all the weight of the diesel tank on starboard.  All of our soft goods like toilet paper, paper towels, towels, clothes, etc., we try to stow forward and higher to help the boat maintain its balance. 

Our cubbies in the after berth also swallow a lot of wine (7 bags this time) along with waters and other goods.  As you can see, we like to get as much of the heavy weight low and aft to offset the Bohemian weight of our 200 foot chain in the bow.  For anyone curious, we probably packed 10 boxes of wine and 15 bottles, I believe, on top of the general booze.  I mean, that’s stuff’s important.  

#thewineispacked #nowecango

ENGINE, SPARES, AND SAFETY GEAR CHECK

We also do the following any time we are preparing to head offshore.  It’s been comforting to refine this list over the years and get better and better at performing these chores.  Between you and me, I think our boat really appreciates it, and sees the love that goes into getting her ready to take us to magical places:

  1. Change the oil in the engine (if it’s time – 50 hours)
  2. Check/change the primary fuel filter if needed
  3. Review and re-stock the following boat supplies as needed:
    1. Engine spares (fuel filters, gaskets, zincs, etc.)
    2. Fluids (oil, coolant, distilled water, transmission fluid, hydraulic fluid, etc.)
    3. Epoxy kit
  4. Check and update our pfds if necessary
  5. Check all of our handheld devices for updates/batteries, etc.
  6. Check our B&G (primary) and Garmin (secondary) chartplotters for updates, etc.
  7. Check and update, if necessary, our fire extinguishers
  8. Check and update, if necessary our smoke and carbon monoxide alarms
  9. Check and update, if necessary, all of our ditch bag contents
  10. Make sure we have a handful of flashlights that actually work (and plenty of batteries)
  11. Check and replenish our emergency food and water stores in the ditch bag
  12. Check and replenish our first aid kit (never fail that means more band-aids, our boat often bites!)
  13. Update and activate the Delorme and make sure it’s tracking and messaging without issue
  14. Send a float plan to designated friends back home with vital USCG and other info

I wrote a much more extensive article about the entirety of spares we pack on the boat if you are interested here.

Phillip and I also carry a spare alternator and a spare raw water pump aboard.  While we do not have one now, in the future, Phillip and I really want to find a replacement auto-pilot for ours that we can just drop in if necessary and carry that aboard when we start to do more extensive (think ocean-crossing) offshore sailing.  Experiencing what we did with Yannick on our first Atlantic-crossing, where we lost the auto-pilot in the middle of the ocean, but thankfully just a few days from the Azores, it would have been nice to have a back-up auto-pilot ready to drop in and continue sailing.  

RIGGING THE BOAT FOR OFFSHORE SAILING

Just in case we find ourselves in this kind of stuff.

Drop Our 135 Genoa for Our 90% Jib

When we get ready to go offshore, Phillip and I drop our 135 genoa (“Genny”) to fly our 90% offshore jib (“Wendy”) as we cross the Gulf, and likely as we sail around the Keys and the Bahamas, too.  After sailing several seasons with Wendy on the forestay, Phillip and I have found we’re usually more comfortable with a smaller sail up there and the option to throw up the spinnaker (“Spinny”) when the winds get light enough for us.  Having the 135, the 90%, our 35% storm sail, and our asymmetrical spinnaker, Phillip and I finally feel like we’ve got a diverse and functional sail plan for our boat dialed in.  

Install the Inner Forestay

We also hoist Captain Annie up the mast every time we prepare to go offshore sailing so I can install our inner forestay in case we need it if we get into some gnarly stuff out there.   I did a video on how to rig your boat for heavy weathera while back which shows this process in more detail if you’re interested. When we’re coastal cruising, Phillip and I generally keep that stay down to preserve it.  And … Annie loves a nice, sunny mast hoist.  It makes for great mast selfies!  (Yes, that’s a thing.) 

Stowing the Dinghy

We also pack down our dinghy and store it completely below decks with the outboard firmly fastened on the stern rail.  Any of my followers who have read Salt of a Sailor or Sometimes You Need a Hacksaw can understand why.  Phillip and I will never travel offshore with a dinghy on the davits.  That is just our preference after an expensive “adventure” during our first voyage where we lost the dinghy (and could have lost the stern rail, which could have caused us to lose much, much more).  Going forward, our dinghy, Dicta, always goes below decks for offshore voyages.  Although the assembly does require a bit of a downward dog, it’s well worth it to have nice clean decks for lounging topside on calm sailing days, and more visibility of the horizon and passing ships. #boatyoga

OTHER ODDS AND ENDS 

Replaced Worn/Aging Reef and Boom Lines

While all of the above tasks were done specifically to prepare the boat for cruising to the Bahamas, we also did a number of things that simply needed to be done to ensure our baby is in the best offshore shape for our jump across the Gulf. It can get gnarly out there. Phillip and I have told fellow sailors many times that the worst “stuff” we’ve seen was in the Gulf, not on either of our Atlantic Ocean crossings.  So, our Gulf-crossing prep included replacing our reef one at the clew for the main sail, which runs through our boom.  We also had an outhaul that was sticking so we had the guys at Zern Rigging look into that as well while the boom was off.  And, we replaced our outhaul line as well which was looking tired.  

Rebuilt the Furling Drum 

The Zern guys also came out to the dock to remove our furling drum so they could rebuild it and replace the bearings.  That thing was squealing out like a pig at the fair when we were turning it.  DJ at Zern Rigging advised changing out the bearings and re-building our swivel shackle for the head sail.

A New Reef Line Tie Method

In re-attaching our reefing lines, we implemented a little trick Phillip had learned while listening to one of Andy Schell’s podcasts at www.59-north.com.  We love that guy.  He and Mia are so inspiring.  Andy had mentioned on one of his podcasts, which Phillip listened to during our recent Atlantic-crossing, that he and Mia—while sailing under a reefed main—were not pleased with how the bowline that attached the reef at the clew to the boom seemed to prevent them from being able to truly cinch the sail all the way down to the boom for safer, flatter reef.  So, Andy and Mia devised a little wrap-around trick, wrapping an extra loop around the boom and tying the bowline as part of the wrap-around to allow the reef at the clew to really cinch the main sail all the way down to the boom.  We tied our reef lines at the clew to the boom using this method and we’re excited to see how this trick performs in heavy winds, if we find ourselves in any (because that it always totally possible!).  “If it’s going to happen, it’s going to happen out there.”  

Man that is some tobaggan hair there! Way to go Annie.

Replaced Our Jib Sheet Blocks

We replaced the jib blocks for our head sail which are mounted on the outside of the cockpit on both starboard and port that feed the headsail sheet to our Monster Winches (I call them) in the cockpit.  They are truly the work horses of the boat, which is why we check and service them often.  While our winches are strong as ox (oxen? oxi?), our old “dinky” blocks that guided the sheet to them were half broke, missing some bearings, and (more likely than not) causing extra tension on our jib sheets.  As you all know, when you’ve got the genny full, that sheet’s got enough tension already.  So, Phillip and I went with some new, far more substantial, and far prettier (I love stainless … before it rusts! : ) jib blocks.  

This job involved drilling the stainless plates, which was a bit of a chore, accidentally busting the blocks open and losing half the bearings to the drink, as well as having to have custom starboard risers made to create a fair lead.  It was one of those projects that begets projects that beget projects, if you know what I mean. But, we got it done and we know this will help further reinforce the strength of our head sail when we’re sailing this year. And, they just look fabulous! While we do want to do like to focus our projects on improving performance and functionality, there’s never any harm in just making her prettier. I honestly think she appreciates it and sails better for it.

Replaced Our Old (Ugly!) Dorade

Speaking of making her prettier … we got a new dorade!  This was just a fun thing to do, something we’ve wanted to do for years, and it made for a fun surprise birthday gift for Phillip that Brandon got to get in on.  Brandon conspired with me to get a new stainless steel ordered up in secret and we surprised Phillip with it.  As you can see our old plastic one was all splotchedy and played out.  Shane, at Perdido Sailor, asked me if that was the “moldy thing” mounted on our deck, and I had to say “Yes, yes, Shane.  It looked like it was covered in mold.”  Our old dorade just really aged the boat, and I knew a shiny stainless one would help perk things up.  As projects beget projects, of course the new dorade would not fit the old plexiglass cover, so I had to have a new one mocked up to fully round out Phillip’s surprise, but it was totally worth it.  “Crackeldy purple” is not a color our boat really adores. Didn’t this turn out great??

Gave the Outboard Some Love

If any of you cruisers out there have an outboard that starts all the time and never gives you trouble, please tell me what kind you have?  Or what magic kind of hoodoo outboard voodoo you’re doing that makes that happen. Is it some kind of dinghy dance before you pull the cord?  While I love our 3.5 hp Tohatsu, he’s just so darn finicky sometimes.  And, in case you were wondering his name is “Sue” as in A Boy Named Sue.  Fitting, no? Maybe he acts up because he doesn’t like the name.  In any event, during our past few weekends on the hook at McRee he was giving us trouble, so we tore him apart to clean out his carburetor.  Unfortunately, that thing looked immaculate so we’re not sure that was the problem.  Perhaps a little water or gunk in the fuel or fuel tank.  Whatever the real reason, he seemed to just enjoy the love and starting running great after that.  We’re just winging it till the next time he wants some love.  Aren’t outboards fun?

Stowed Our Spare CQR

Many of you may have seen my recent post on our decision to upgrade our our 35-lb CQR (lovingly named the “Rust Bomb”) for a 37-lb Sarca Excel.  

I posted a detailed blog article about our research and decision if you want to know more about the reasoning behind our choice, but in that decision, we knew we wanted to bring our old CQR, once removed, with us (stowed away) for deployment in case of an emergency or storm.  

But, finding a place for that guy … while I thought it was going to be rather hard, I’m pleased to say it was rather simple.  I’m telling you guys, our boat is a storage dream.  

Our old CQR sat down nice and snug in our port lazarette, along with our spare Danforth, not to mention the dock lines, spare engine parts, life raft, auto-pilot, fishing gear, bungees … I could go on.  That thing is a black hole.  Note, we did enlarge that locker, when we were on the hard in 2016, by sacrificing some engine room space with a removable wall that allows the port lazarette to extend further into the engine room.  It has turned out to be a very smart trade-off, because we can remove that wall (or maybe it’s a bulkhead on a boat … whatever you want to call it) when we need to work on the engine to give us full access back there.  With the extensive work we did down there this past year on the hard in 2018, it proved well worth it.  

Filled and Tied Our Jerry Cans

We made a board that bolts onto the lifelines before our trip to the Bahamas in 2017 out of synthetic patio decking (so no rot or rust) that is easy to install and un-install when we are not sailing offshore.  We filled three 5-gallon Jerries with diesel, one 5-gallon of water, and two 1.5 gallons of gasoline and strapped them down.  Hence my lyric: “My Jerries are strapped, I’m ready to go!”  : )

You can see our Jerry cans strapped on the port side.

IS THAT ALL?!

Whew, man, did I get everything?  I know, it can seem daunting.  Preparing to cruise is no joke and takes weeks of planning and work.  While it can be stressful, and hard to squeeze into your already busy, full work days, the process is infinitely rewarding when you finally shove off and it’s just you, full sails, the horizon, a pile of books to read and a can of nuts to munch on (or at least that’s what’s by my side out there!).  Hope you all learned a little about boat prep and how Phillip and I like approach it.  We get better and quicker at it every time, which makes each subsequent cruise that much more rewarding.  Hope to see some of you out on the water on our way to the Bahamas!  

And, sing it with me people: “I’m leeeeaving on a sailboat. This time tomorrow, we’ll be in the Gulf afloat. Leeeeaving on a sailboat.” Have fun following along!