April 2004
 

23-31.117N
075-45.630W

Anchored
Elizabeth Harbor
George Town
Republic of The Bahamas

Wednesday, April 28

A pleasant, uneventful down wind sail from Calabash Bay set the stage, starting last Sunday, for a so far pleasant, non eventful visit to George Town, during which we must prepare for our departure Monday, to The States, for Laura's graduation. And if I use one more comma, you will protest.

In the absence of some high adventure potentially interesting to a reader, these will be our last words until after May 21, when we return here to continue through these marvelous islands.


23-38.962N
075-20.533W

Anchored
Calabash Bay
Long Island
Republic of The Bahamas

Saturday, April 24

John picked up Chichi, after a beach walk/swim, and we returned to Pachamama to the sound of splashes.  Off the stern was a dolphin, jumping like in the shows and movies, showing off just for us.  We then saw his (her?) two companions, one on his back, like a puppy waiting to be scratched on the belly.  They stayed with us ten minutes, then rudely left without saying good  bye, the whole affair being another incident cementing our affection for Conception Island.

The trip today was down wind, only Genoa flying, but giving us 4.5 knots, enough to make a safe arrival through the reef, with sunlight bearing straight down.  Tomorrow, George Town.


23-51.082N
075-07.181W

Anchored
West Bay
Conception Island
Republic of The Bahamas

Friday, April 23

On the day before our departure from Rum Cay, Delores Wilson cooked a meal worthy of the finest restaurant.  

Her place, named after her daughter, is Kaye's.  From the outside, it is about as inviting as an out building of a farm, the small old wooden cabin in which the farmer repairs machinery.  From the inside, it has the charm of a comfortable bar in Broadripple.
The entrance and floor of the bar is sand, pure sand, a super clean mixture that folds smoothly and comfortably through the toes, like the fine sand found on most Rum Cay beaches.  No ugly stones, or hard places, or brush, or human junk.  The dining and  bar areas are separated by a conch curtain made of shells strung vertically, perhaps five strings per foot.  Photographs everywhere tell the tale of hundreds of visiting boaters.  Since food must be kept constantly frozen, and no food is wasted, we had to order lunch on our arrival prior to a beach hike.  We both asked for Chicken, and Chichi asked, "what comes with it?"  The 72-year-old Delores said, "it will be a surprise."  We came back at one to find a table perfectly set, and a meal fit for kings.  On departure, Delores asked for our signatures in her guest book, and she gave us a home bottled tomato mix that looks just fine.  Thank you, Delores, and thank you Rum Cay for two weeks in your arms.

Conception, 24 miles north, is home for a famous couple, Adam and Eve.  We could not find the precise location of their historic error, but it could have been anywhere here.  The beaches are perfect.  The low cliffs over the shore line have endless layers, holes and cuts (probably made of dead coral), and the colors of the water are more dynamic than colors through a child's kaleidoscope.  This has been a natural, comfortable, private, beautiful, and relaxed anchorage for John and Chichi to spend their 36th wedding anniversary.

23-38.366N
074-50.516W

Anchored
Port Nelson
Rum Cay
Republic of The Bahamas

Monday, April 12

Rum Cay has a future.  On February 27, a new first-class airstrip was opened, and during our short bike ride nearby, a twin took off and a Lear landed.  The road from downtown also is new, and perfectly paved.  A month old newspaper reported a $90 million commitment from a British company for a hotel, condo and marina project, construction to start in June.  Boy, will this change things.

Walking here we sometimes feel in the midst of desolation, but a short stop at the Sumner Point Marina or at Cay's Restaurant reveals a lively town with lots of active people and good times. The other night, for example, Kaye's had a guitarist singing old favorites like "Puff The Magic Dragon."  Easter was especially strange.  When we got out of the dinghy at government dock, not a soul was to be seen.  As we approached The Baptist Church, however, we began to meet people in their Sunday best.  We shared the church service with 10 people.  This was the most emotional service John ever has seen, probably Chichi too.  The octogenarian minister was in tears by the time he finished describing the crucifixion and resurrection.  He came alive during this, while previously having walked slowly with a cane, and sitting hunched over one-finger-playing-one-note-at-a-time on the electric keyboard, barely keeping up with the singing congregation.

Our first rollick into the island was a visit to the Sumner Point Marina.  The following is not accurate, because we did not get the details, but roughly here is what happened.  A few years ago, at least five, an American couple from Albany started building the marina off a shallow channel, less than five feet at low tide, but OK for our 6 1/2 feet at high tide.  The marina appears to be able to handle 10 or 15 boats, with expansion underway, including dredging farther back into the creek.  At one point, the marina was filled with sport fishing vessels, one around 60 feet, with the best varnish we ever have seen.  The marina is clean.  Its restaurant, The Green Flash, served excellent sandwiches and conch chowder.  With three beers and onion rings, the bill was $35, enough to turn Chichi's stomach, but John does not see how they can survive and grow on less.  The rental  bicycles and golf carts look new and well taken care off.  Four cabins are available to rent on the beach, and the owner's homes  back of the creek would make any suburban tenant proud.  

The island has magnificent untapped beaches, especially on the north west side.  Our bike ride past the airport gave us a glimpse.  The resort activities will change the atmosphere a bit, hopefully with taste and elegance.  

The biggest event every week is arrival of the mail boat, this week two days late, causing postponement of the annual cook out on behalf of the Anglican Church.  The cook out might be today.  We are checking.

The Last Chance, a grocery store, had most of what we need, and one internet machine as fast as anything in the states, but at $5.00 for 15 minutes, a far cry from what we paid in Venezuela, about 75 cents an hour.

John has been a bit literary.  He  finished "Blue Latitudes," given us by Teri and Eric.  This is the story of Captain Cook's explorations, and the reporter's experiences following the same routes.  Then John started "Wind from The Carolinas," about the British loyalists' migration to The Bahamas, and to Great Exuma which we will visit this month.  This was a coincidence.  He had no idea what the book was about.  Finally, at lunch at the marina, we read aloud to each other "My Rum Cay" by Deloris Wilson, whom we later met at her daughter's  restaurant, Kaye'ss.  This book is a personal history of her birth here, moving with her parents to Nassau, coming back here with her daughter after a failed marriage, and developing the restaurant.  Deloris also was active in the independence movement.  The greatest day of her life was hearing the broadcast description from Nassau as The Union Jack was lowered and the new Bahamian flag raised.  She also described catching fish and cooking and living with the some 50 or 100 other residents here.  Her book is a text in schools throughout the islands.

We are stuck again.  The wind is OK to sail, though a bit challenging at 20 knots on the stern if we go to Conception.  The problem is that Conception has no protection, a dangerous situation during the forecasted wind shift Wednesday from SE around counter clockwise to northwest, then north, then north east.  We will wait this one out at least through Thursday.  Conception is a national park, uninhabited, with excellent hiking and snorkeling.  We hope to see it within our time schedule, which is to arrive in George Town April 25, giving us 8 days to prepare to leave for home on May 3.

Thursday, April 8

Father Pat and The Blue Hole


"It is our version of the Grand Canyon"' said Father Pat, and we decided to go.  On the first attempt, we were to meet him at 11 a.m., with friends Teri and Eric, but a health emergency prevented him from taking us.  We came in the next day, less committed to this 60 minute trip, because we had no plan and no contact with Father Pat.  After a couple of errands, we decided to flip a coin:  heads The Blue Hole, tails back to the boat followed by a picnic on the beach.  Heads it was, and less than a minute later, Father Pat drove up, and the deal was made.  Coincidence, or Providence?

Blue holes are an ocean phenomenon.  They are deep holes, perhaps less than 50 yards across, randomly distributed, like chuck holes.  This one, named Dean's Blue Hole, is the deepest in the western hemisphere, about 600 feet, in a cove easily accessible by car.  The surrounding area is a beach.  Bathers can walk toward the hole about 15 feet before coming to the abyss.  Seen from rocks about 50 feet above, the effect is like looking into an eyeball, with a dark center and light multi colored perimeter. On a clear day, the effect is spectacular, "like the eye of God," Father Pat said.  The area is completely isolated, but perfect for a picnic and bathing.  Fortunately, no one yet has built a resort motel, perhaps because the hole conjures up images of monsters of the deep.
Let it remain this way.  

Father Pat is a member of the Damien Community, a missionary organization within The Catholic Church.  He will remain in Clarence Town several more years, unless he is needed in another country.  He is a kind man.  One parishioner told us "he cannot say no."  

-----

Saying good bye is inherent in the sailing experience.  We waved good bye to Eric and Teri Tuesday morning, not knowing when or if we will see them again.  We met them briefly in Luperon, then sailed together to Mayaguana, where we were stuck by weather for over a week.  We also sailed overnight together to Clarence Town.  We spent a lot of time together, eating, talking about books and movies, exchanging books and movies, and hearing plans.  Their plan is to sell Penina  by late fall, and then to travel to Boquete, Panama, first to build a home, then to start a school to teach Spanish.  Cruisers find friendship very quickly.  Development of friendship on land, such as among new neighbors, takes many weeks, but on the sea it takes only a few days, because we share so many experiences and goals, as well as problems and challenges.  Everyone helps everyone, with problems that are technical, mechanical, and personal.  After an hour with Teri and Eric, we knew that we could exchange ideas, laugh a lot, and comfortably say what we think.  We shed a tear or two as they left Clarence Harbor.  "Fair winds," friends.  "May you always have an anchor."

----

The trip from Clarence Town to Port Nelson yesterday was uneventful.  Though from an ideal direction, the wind lacked punch.  It would have given us only two or three knots of forward motion.  Our motor at 1500 rpm made up the difference, and we did the 35 miles in six hours. The anchorage is large.  One other boat rests about 300 yards away.  We will go into the island today, looking for new friends and new experiences.

23-06.220N
074-56.965W

Anchored
Clarence Harbor, Clarence Town
Long Island
The Bahamas

Saturday, April 3

With little wind, the overnight from Mayaguana to Long Island was comfortable, though we do not enjoy the constant sound of the motor and the attendant small of exhaust fumes.  Nothing is perfect.  The main was up most of the time, with little contribution to our forward motion, but providing stability.

We caught three fish along the way.  Two Dorados and one Barracuda.  The Dorados flipped the lure about three feet behind the boat, but not before we could enjoy the fabulous colors of this species, more impressive than the finest gem.  We got the Barracuda aboard, but did not want it.  Our fear of the teeth and lack of knowledge of a disease carried by shallow water fish caused us to return this 16 incher to the deep.

Our goal had been to spend a day or two at Little Harbor, but an ocean swell caused breaking waves at the entrance.  We turned north, instead, to Clarence Town, probably a better choice because here we have a village, church, and opportunities to be with other people.  We arrived  by dinghy at the town dock simultaneously with the weekly mail boat.  Its arrival produces a lively day as merchants take goods they have ordered, from food to TVs.  Next, we walked up the road.  A woman stopped by to ask if we need a ride.  We said that we were going to the bank, which we thought was just up the road, maybe  a couple of blocks.  Thirty minutes later, we arrived at the bank, and we took the cashier's entire supply of U.S. dollars.  The woman's god daughter was with her.  The god daughter and her child needed medicine from the health clinic where a five minute task turned into a two hour wait, which, in fact, we enjoyed.  The health clinic was clean and efficient.  It even advertised air ambulance services, for almost $5,000 (probably to
Nassau).  

Navigating Bahamas Harbors is nerve racking, with reefs sometimes only a few meters off one side.  Thousands of boats do it every year.  We can too.

Life is expensive here.  Water runs from 30 cents to 60 cents a gallon.  Imagine.  Electricity at a dock can be $15 a day.  Phone calls to the U.S. about $1.50 per minute.  Meat and fresh vegetables are in short supply as we expected.  Meanwhile, we are coming to the end of our U.S.-acquired supplies, which is OK because we will turn off the refrigerator for three weeks while we go to Laura's graduation in Indianapolis.

The wind today is  north west.  We hope to see it clock east  by Tuesday, making for an easy passage to Rum Cay, about 35 miles.