 Sailboat leaving Mill Creek The list of projects for Orion for the summer is lengthy, so we know only some of them will actually happen. To get the ball rolling on the list, we took a trip up to Deltaville Boatyard to have them look her over and give us estimates on the bigger items on the list -- such as repairing the damage to the bow pulpit and fixing the recently discovered leak by the rudder post. The good news about the rudder leak was that it was not likely to become a flood all of a sudden, so we were good to continue traveling for the time being. The bad news was that it was going to require the boat to be hauled to repair. We had been hoping to defer that until next year. So, it looks like we’ll be back on the hard this August as we tend to this and other projects that could benefit from access to Orion’s bottom.
In the meantime, we’ve addressed some smaller items on Orion.
All Fired Up
While in the Bahamas, Cathy had started having problems with our usually reliable stove. Any use of the oven for more than about 30 minutes and the stove would simply “give up” -- the flame weakening to the point where it simply died out. While it could be restarted after about 30 minutes of “rest”, the oven was not getting to temperatures much above 300 degrees (F), and it was virtually impossible to use both a stovetop burner along with the oven. Dave had traced the likely cause of this problem to a faulty solenoid in the propane locker. Once we were in Hampton, Dave replaced the solenoid with one ordered from Beneteau, which immediately solved the problems with the oven. The stove behaved as if it had just received a new lease on life. It easily baked some chicken for 45 minutes at a whopping 450 degrees, while cooking potatoes on the stove top. Cathy wishes she could have this much renewed energy. Maybe a few more laps in the pool will do it. . .
 New toilet in place Oh, Pooh!
Wandering the aisles of West Marine, you never know what will catch your eye. For Dave, it was a shiny new toilet on sale. We had started having some small leaks in the pump on our Jabsco toilet, and an exact model replacement was on sale for the same cost as the repair kit for the pump. This seemed to be a no-brainer. The only problem was going to be transporting the sizeable box back on top of a bike back to our dinghy at Zahniser’s marina in Solomons. The good folks at West Marine took pity on Dave, however, and gave him and the new toilet a ride back to the dinghy dock. Now, that's service.
We waited until we were securely tied to a dock and had not only just pumped out, but pumped gallons of water through the system before risking the removal of the old toilet. Despite our efforts, there was still a reasonable amount of “liquid” in the hose once Dave undid the fitting from the holding tank to the old toilet. But we were glad it was very clear in color, if not altogether odor free. To save some work, Dave decided to try to leave a piece of the old toilet (that connected to the hose to holding tank) in place. We would just replace the joker valve in this section and then attach the new toilet to this fixture. After Cathy cleaned the space beneath and behind the toilet, Dave applied some caulk to the base of the new toilet and into the screw holes in the floor before installing it in the same location as the old one.
We then filled the toilet with fresh water, and pumped.
Unfortunately, the water poured out of the connection to the older part of the fixture. Apparently, Dave’s shortcut wasn’t working. Good thing we had put only water in the bowl. Now we had to remove the holding tank hose and replace the remaining piece of the old toilet with the new one. However, with the new toilet in place, this was no longer very easy to do. Dave eventually got everything in place, with the hose securely clamped to the fixture. This time when we pumped, all fittings stayed dry. We (reluctantly) pumped some raw water into the bowl and ensured those fittings stayed dry. (Raw water from the Bay, shall we say, ages very poorly.) It was now ready for use. Within a few days, we were confident enough in our installation that we finally tossed the old toilet. Another dirty job behind us.  This thunderstorm that came through with while we were anchored at Mill Creek reminded us that our portlights needed some work. Watertight
The saga of our leaking portlights seems never-ending. After re-sealing the seams in 4 of the windows last fall, we watched over the course of the winter to see how well they stayed dry. The only problem was that we had very little rain to prove one way or the other whether the fix was working. However, that eventually changed, and it became apparent that we needed to finish the remaining windows. Cathy was finally able to get the time and dry weather to re-seal them, but we’ve had little rain to prove that her efforts were successful.
Be careful what you ask for.
A couple of days later, as the sun was about to set and we had just finished topping off our water tanks, we saw the sky grow ominously dark. We scurried below and waited for what appeared to be a major storm to hit. And "hit" is the appropriate word. The strong winds heeled us over at the dock first one direction and then the opposite direction. A fellow boater clocked the winds at their peak at 51 knots or about 60 mph, which would make it the strongest storm we have seen on Orion since moving aboard. Trees were uprooted on the shore at the edge of the dock. Another sailor said the wind pulled the fittings of his canvas enclosure right out of the fiberglass. The nearby Hampton Roads tunnel was closed most of the next day as they struggled to get the water out of one of the tubes. And, through it all, the portlights stayed dry. Maybe that fix will hold for a while now.
 Newly installed LED reading light Lighten Up
Dave took advantage of some lazy days at anchor in Mill Creek to install some more LED reading lights we had bought at the Boater’s World closing sale. Dave replaced 2 of the remaining 3 lights that hadn’t already been replaced, one of which wasn’t working. The lights work great and consume a tenth of the power of the incandescent lights they replace.
Rust Be Gone Over the course of the winter, the chain hook Dave uses on the snubber while at anchor was rusting badly, which in turn was staining the fore deck an ugly yellow as we spent night after night at anchor. We needed a solution, and Dave finally found it in a stainless steel replacement he purchased off eBay. For one of the snubbers, the new chain hook fit easily in the shackle where its predecessor had sat. However, this wasn’t the case for the second snubber. Dave finally decided to simply remove the thimble and shackle in the line and simply splice the new hook directly into the line. With the offending rusting hooks now gone, Cathy used some Y10 to good effect to restore the bright white deck, removing all of the winter’s accumulation of rust stains.
It's A Social Whirl  Fortunate and Slow Dancin' rafted together on Mill Creek; In our travels up and down the Bay, we’ve managed to get to see a number of friends and family members, more so than we ever expected. As we motored north from Deltaville on a hot, still Tuesday in early June, we were surprised to hear Bonnie Lass calling a friend on the radio. We hailed them as they made their way north toward Olverson’s Marina on the Yeocomico off the Potomac. After considering a stop together at Sandy Point on the Great Wicomico River, the lure of running water, A/C and a dock to tie up to after a long trip north was too much for them to defer for another night.
However, as we stopped for a 2nd time at Sandy Point on the way south, we managed to hook up instead with Joy and Rusty on Slow Dancin’ and Barb and Dave on Fortunate, whom we hadn’t seen for over a year since leaving Marathon, FL last winter. They were out for week’s sail on the Bay, but their grand plans had telescoped into a leisurely circuit of the Great Wicomico. (To illustrate how leisurely their schedule was, we planned to meet in Sandy Point as we returned south from Solomons, about a 7 hour trip with a little help from current and none from the wind. They were just crossing the river from Reedville, about 2 miles distance. We still arrived ahead of them.) With no schedule driving us further south too soon, we decided to crash their party and spend a few more days with our new traveling companions, re-locating to the protection of Mill Creek (another tributary of the Great Wicomico) for a few days when the winds kicked up and the temperatures dropped off.
We managed to see Dave’s cousins for a few days in Solomons, spending time with them over the weekend before school ended and their summer trips began. They let us join them for the St. Mary’s Crab Festival, where the kids enjoyed the farm animals and the adults enjoyed lots of crabs. Back in Hampton, we were treated to an evening sail with Tom and Cathie on Interlude, followed by a dinner in downtown Hampton. In a boater’s version of singing for your supper, Dave followed up an evening dinner with Steve and Christa of Bay Dreamer with an afternoon of helping Steve re-wire his GPS to allow it to be powered separately from his other instruments and to sound a remote buzzer, making the set-up more useful for the anchor drag alarm. We got to know some other boaters who live on-board on the docks at Joy’s Marina, including Lisa and John on Sysyphean Holiday, who invited us for dinner aboard one Sunday evening. We are burrowing in for the next month or so in Hampton. We swim at the Community Center, pick up some fresh produce and local fare at the Farmer’s Market on Saturday mornings and spend a Sunday morning with the good folks at First United Methodist Church. It’s getting hotter -- this is the Chesapeake after all-- but we have A/C to keep cool, and plenty of projects to keep us busy.
 We became a couple of landlubbers for 10 days while we spent time with our kids and grandkids, after covering the last couple of hundred miles of the ICW to get from NC to Hampton, VA. The weather on this last leg of trip north was mild (for a change), and we arrived in Hampton in good time to fulfill our babysitting duties.
 Memorial Day at Great Bridge
Three days after leaving R. E. Mayo’s docks behind for the Alligator River, we found ourselves tying up to the free dock at Great Bridge (in the town of Chesapeake VA). We love staying at this convenient dock on the waterway. There are lots of services within walking distance (grocery, propane, pharmacy, several restaurants, barber shop/beauty salon, Dairy Queen, just to name a few), and we usually meet other boaters or locals on shore during our stay. This visit was no different.
 Sunrise north of Coinjock Arriving on the Friday of Memorial Day weekend, we were uncertain whether the holiday would make the Great Bridge docks more crowded than usual. Therefore, we left Coinjock before dawn to ensure we would be ahead of the pack of sailboats making their way north. As it happened, we arrived by noon and found plenty of space on the docks. Our early arrival just meant we could enjoy an ice cream cone for lunch. Not bad.
 These signs were new on the docks this visit. In talking to someone from Homeland Security, we learned that foreign flagged vessels are routinely checked to ensure compliance with regulations. That evening we talked to some of the members of the Marine Corps League whose Chesapeake detachment occupies a building next to the docks. We were invited to stay for the city’s Memorial Day cookout. When we replied that we were concerned about the 24-hour stay limit, we were told that it would be OK. (Among the group was a representative from the local Homeland Security patrol and the Army Corps of Engineers who are responsible for the locks.) We decided we would make it to Hampton in good time for our obligations and stayed on for the event. It was a good decision. They had smoked pork BBQ, shrimp, baked beans, hush puppies, potato salad, and more. It was a feast. One of their members had his own smoker that he used to cook the pork the day before. We arrived early on Monday to help with the set-up as a way of “singing for our supper” so to speak. It was greatly appreciated and we enjoyed getting to know the group a little better.
After lunch, we headed back to the boat, and cast off for the 2pm lock opening. We wanted to be in Hampton for a couple of days to get the boat ready to leave for the week we would be away. So, we had the time to get the through the lock and remaining bridges and still be in Hampton long before sunset.  Our trip was made even easier by the fact that there is now one less bridge on the Elizabeth River. The Jordan Bridge had its span removed in early May. Doing the Grandparent Thing We were thrilled to have 10 days to spend with our grandchildren and their parents. It was a lot of fun and we were glad we were able to make it up north quickly enough to do it. It wasn’t all fun and games, though. Our son-in-law drafted us to help install a pool one Saturday, which gave us another reminder of why we don’t miss this part of homeownership.  Blackbeard Pirate Festival
This was probably the best Pirate Festival weekend we’ve enjoyed. The overcast skies on Saturday, without the threatened rain made the day cool and breezy. Our son’s family joined us for the day, including an evening picnic on the dock that Steve from Bay Dreamer organized. And, for the first time in our 3 years of attending, the fireworks finally took place, right over our heads. It was a great day.
On Sunday, we took a short stroll by ourselves through the festival to enjoy some of the music and food, ending the day with Tom and Cathie from Interlude whose boat now sits in a slip at Joy’s near Orion. Now that we plan to be in Hampton most of the summer, we hope to see more of them.
Boat Stuff
With all the traveling, boat work was kept to a minimum, but the planning for the summer projects has begun. A trip to Deltaville is imminent to get estimates for the various projects on the list. A surprise addition to the list is a new leak by the rudder that showed itself for the first time as we made our way to Great Bridge. The water had overflowed the small well below the rudder post to pool under the engine drive shaft. In mopping it up, Dave traced it back further aft, but wasn’t sure of its cause. While on the dock at Great Bridge (and later at Hampton), the compartment stayed dry. Only when we moved from Great Bridge to Hampton was he able to isolate the source as the rubber seal under the quadrant.
We also discovered a problem with another leak on our starboard water tank, this time under the sight glass. So, we removed and re-sealed it with silicone, which has done the job so far.
Thanks to our trip to Boater’s World, we have a new grill, which Dave mounted to replace the old one. He no longer has to deal with the briquettes that the old one had, and the top is permanently attached with a pivot to swing it open, instead of the wire that head the other one on.
On to Deltaville
Our next stop is Deltaville to get their input on Orion’s job list, before heading to Solomons to visit Don and Cindy and crew. We hope to be back in Hampton in a week – not 2 months later, like last year.
 Orion sits on the dock at R. E. Mayo After 2 weeks in Charleston, we had a brief window to hop outside and move north to Southport, NC, which we did on Mother’s Day Sunday (May 10). From there, another outside hop to Beaufort and into the ICW has brought us to R. E. Mayo, Inc., a commercial dock in tiny Hobucken, NC between the Pamlico and Neuse rivers. The winds outside will keep us here for a while.
Stormy Weather
We have become used to calm, sunny trips as we make our runs out in the ocean, but it was probably time for our good fortune to come to an end. While we stayed put in Charleston for 2 weeks, the weather was calm and beautiful (of course). It was only when we started looking for traveling weather that we began to see forecasts for days of unsettled weather – fronts, thunderstorms, winds. We needed to move on, but it was going to be tricky finding the right window. We finally decided to get ready to go, so we could act quickly on any change in the forecast. That opportunity arrived the very next day. But it would not be the sunny trip we had become used to.
When we checked the weather Sunday morning, the sea state forecast was mild the and winds were going to be southerly. The only concern was the usual “isolated” thunderstorms in the forecast. These hadn’t materialized for days, and if we didn’t go now, it would be at least 3 days before we could try again. We talked to Heidi and Ken on Rising Tide, who were looking to make a similar hop. We both talked each other into it and were underway in less than an hour.
The trip from Charleston to Southport is a short one – less than 24 hours – so a late start was actually good, ensuring we would arrive at the Cape Fear inlet in daylight. It was sunny, with a light wind as we rode the ebbing current out the inlet. After a brief hope that we could sail or at least motorsail a bit, we resigned ourselves to another motoring trip. But the calm winds were telling us something. It wasn’t long before dark clouds appeared on the horizon, followed by the repeated wailing of the NOAA weather alarm on our VHF radio. It didn’t look like we would dodge the weather this time. For hours, thunder and lightning could be heard and seen around us. There were severe storms being sighted, some with winds over 60 mph, but they all seemed to pass north or south of us. In the end, all we experienced were light showers, and they weren’t that bad. We considered ourselves very lucky. We were on the dock at South Harbor Village by 8:15a on Monday morning, and thankful to be so. Within a couple of hours, the skies turned black again with a more direct hit of a thunderstorm that we would not have liked to have seen out in the ocean.
Putting together a plan for the next hop up the NC coast proved even more difficult than the last one. After we arrived on Monday, a front rolled through, with days of high winds from the northeast following it. We even tried to slog our way north against 3 foot standing waves in the Cape Fear river before asking ourselves: why are we doing this? Finally, we developed a plan to chance an outside run to Beaufort, NC. At 6 knots, this is only a 19 hour run. So, we once again needed to leave late in the day to arrive after dawn.
Pulling out of the marina around 1pm, we soon found ourselves all alone as we motored southeast into the 4 to 5 foot seas along the edge of Frying Pan shoals, before being able to turn northeast toward Beaufort. We knew from listening to the nets in the morning that there were others heading to Beaufort, but they were further offshore. We wouldn’t see them on our trip. As the sun set, the clouds were building, but no thunderstorms were within sight. We knew that something was likely to come sooner or later. Sure enough, around 1am the rain descended, and it poured. We scrambled to re-install the glass panels we had removed in Charleston when the temperatures soared. After drying ourselves and the cockpit, we continued on to Beaufort. The rain had brought the wind with it, so we put out the headsail and turned off the engine, sailing on it for most of the night. Even though our speed dropped over that time, it was a conscious decision to slow down, since we were moving too fast under power and would have arrived at the inlet before dawn. Instead, we arrived at the sea buoy just after dawn and just after low tide, enjoying a favorable (or at least slack) current as we headed in past Beaufort, Morehead City and into Core Creek toward the Neuse River.
We had seen our share of rain as we made our way north, but had managed to dodge the thunderstorms in all of the forecasts. Since more were on their way, with a front expected to last for several days, including gale force winds, we once again looked for a place to ride out the weather. This time we chose the RE Mayo dock on the Hobucken Cut at the top of the Neuse River.
Family Connections
For the first time, we managed to connect with Cathy’s family while they were staying in Sunset Beach. Our arrival in Southport, just 30 miles north, coincided with their Mother’s Day visit to the beach. They came to visit us on Orion, some seeing the boat for the first time. We spent part of 3 days together either on the boat or at the beach house. (Thanks to the use of a car for part of one day, we also managed to shop the latest price reductions at Boater’s World and have a few more trinkets for the boat.)
 While enjoying lunch on the boat with Cathy’s mom and sister, we watched this dredge move in through a narrow opening near our boat to a position inside one of the fairways. The winds were howling that day and the current was running fast, but the boat was helped by the bulldozer operator, who put his shovel on the bottom to steady the barge as it moved through the opening.  Charleston - Parting Shots
Charleston continues to be our favorite stop on the trip along the east coast. We sampled some of the familiar places on Market Street and took in some new sites, such as the Charleston RiverDogs AA Baseball game and the new Star Trek movie at the new Hippodrome theater. Most everything is either in walking distance or on a bus line. On Sunday, we walked to the nearby Redeemer Presbyterian church their Sunday service and an after-church program to highlight their ministries. When Dave learned their Missions team was heading to Uganda, he was able to connect the team leader with friends of ours living there and running a mission to help orphaned children. We also managed to meet up with one of Cathy’s cousins who live in Charleston on one of our walks as well.
The Maritime Center continues to be a hub of activity as well. There are private parties on the grounds, some of which we get invited to, such as the Dining with Friends benefit (a wonderful dessert buffet) and an Air Force party on the Spirit of SC. Other boats come and go, including some old friends, such as Chris and Lee on Namaste, who arrived just before we left. And behind it all is the magnificent backdrop of activity in the harbor with the huge ships coming and going. It just is tough to beat.  RE Mayo docks on Hobucken Cut. R. E. Mayo, Inc.
For the first time, we stopped at R E Mayo, Inc., a dock for commercial fisherman. It appears to be the end of an era for this institution on the waterway. We spent an afternoon talking with the owner and the store clerks. Roy, the owner is in his 90’s and full of stories of his life on the water over the past century. There were also discussions of the hard times for the local commercial fishing fleet, struggling under the restrictions of government regulations and the competitive pressures of farmed fish stocks. The docks were mostly empty of commercial boats, but the local recreational fisherman had pulled up their chairs and taken advantage of the vacancies to pull in croakers, drum and sea bass.
We waited out several days of wind and rain before moving on, but we got a new perspective on this rural outpost after our prolonged stay there.
 Barges pass close by on the cut as we lay on R E Mayo’s dock.
 We’re back in the US, here in Charleston, SC. Two years ago, on our first trip south, it took us a week to get here once we left the Bahamas. Last year, it took 2 weeks to journey north from Marathon to Charleston. This year, we did it in a little over 2 days. Not bad.
Timing is Everything
The line of boats heading north past Manjack Cay seemed endless. As we watched them go, heading toward a departure point for the trip back to the US, we kept asking ourselves: should we go to?
Weather guru Chris Parker had identified a window to cross the Gulf Stream on Sunday, April 19th to Monday, April 20th. But it would be a short one, so the furthest we would be able to go was probably Cape Canaveral. We had wanted to go further north – maybe to Fernandina Beach or, preferably, Charleston. But that would take 2 to 3 days. So, we decided to let this window go and wait for the next one. Still the boats kept moving – for 3 days. On Thursday night, many of them stayed with us at Manjack – over 30 of them. It was enough to make us question our decision to wait. But, as we thought about traveling with this many boats – crowded anchorages, jockeying at bridge openings -- we began to feel more confident in letting this opportunity go.
Within a couple of days, we began to hear the first indication that our patience was going to pay out. As Chris was advising some of his customers on passages north, he started to indicate a longer period of settled weather was coming our way. As his forecasts became more certain, they also became more promising. We were going to see days of calm weather north of the Bahamas. He was telling boats preparing for long passages that if they had ever considered going around Hatteras on the outside, but had been too put off by its notorious foul weather, they should consider doing it in this window. Wow! This looked like it.
Chris’ only caution about the weather was the possibility of too little wind, making it largely a motoring trip. So, we made some calculations and determined we could make it as far as Charleston, even if we had to motor the whole way, but we would want to re-fuel at some point along the way. We considered this for a bit. Our fuel fill is on the transom on our stern. Dave usually stands on the swim platform when we are re-fueling at a dock or from jerry jugs. That was not going to happen in the ocean. But his primary purpose for standing there is to monitor how full the tank is in order to avoid an overflow. We wouldn’t need to worry about that in the ocean, since we would just be adding fuel for a margin of safety. That would just mean that one or both of us would need position ourselves with the jerry jugs on the stern and hold the siphon in the fuel fill. Not something we would want to do in rough ocean conditions, but if it was so calm that we didn’t have enough wind to sail, then it should be a relatively simple process to execute in those conditions. We decided to go for it.
So, we began making the boat ready and then positioned ourselves at Great Sale Cay for a Thursday morning (April 23rd) crossing. Dave used the hookah system to clean what growth had accumulated on the bottom of Orion and the dinghy. He changed the zinc, which had held up well for the 3 months since it was changed in Florida. Cathy organized food for what could be more than 3 days at sea, making meals and snacks that could be served quickly and easily. We stowed loose items, pulled out charts for the states, got the routes planned and loaded to the chartplotter, and hauled and strapped down the dinghy and motor. We moved gradually north and west, dodging weather as we travelled from Manjack to Powell to Crab and finally Great Sale Cay.
As we pulled into Great Sale Cay, we had only 4 other boats as company. We were hoping to find traveling companions for the trip to Charleston, but this didn’t look promising. After chatting with those in the anchorage, we appeared to be the only ones with such lofty ambitions. By sunset however, there were closer to 20 boats in the anchorage. We tried once more and connected with 2 other boats: one (Grateful Lattitudes) heading to Brunswick, GA or maybe Charleston and the other (Hawkeye) heading to Charleston, but wanting to wait for more wind until Friday. We decided to head out at first light with those heading to Brunswick, sharing their company as long as it would last. After having 2 restless nights dealing with passing storms the nights before, we both collapsed into bed early to get some much-needed sleep as we prepared for the long trip ahead.
 The Little Bahama Bank is flat calm as we approach Mantanilla shoal. Charleston Bound
We were the first boat underway the next morning, just ahead of Grateful Lattitudes and Exodus, but our lead didn’t last long. Unlike our traveling companions, we decided to sail in the light winds and save fuel, but after only a few hours, we furled the sails and powered up. It would be over 24 hours before we would try again.
We were in luck that Grateful Attitudes was a sponsoring vessel for Chris Parker, allowing him to obtain the Gulf Stream coordinates, which we eagerly took down. Dave plotted a route to take maximum advantage of the current in the Gulf Stream for our trip north. Once we left the Little Bahama Bank, near sunset on Thursday, we would benefit from the north-flowing stream for almost 30 hours, at times reach 10 knots over ground, even though our rpms were only about 2400.
 Sunset as we enter the Gulf Stream The wind shifted a bit during the 56-hour run, but it was mostly from the southeast when it had any strength at all. That kept the swells small and manageable. We did try to sail again the next evening, but the wind was too much behind us and too light to be effective. We took opportunities Friday morning and again Friday evening to re-fuel, adding 15 gallons to keep up the margin of safety for the remainder of the trip.
Being so far out (at times 100 miles off-shore), we had less traffic and more sea life than our earlier trips outside in the ocean. We saw pilot whales, dolphins breaching, and amazingly, a hitchhiker in the form of goldfinch, who joined us for about 20 hours, until we neared Charleston. For a wild thing, he had no fear of us and quickly perched on our shoulder or head when we were still for a few minutes. Amazing.
 Dave and hitchhiker But by Saturday morning, we were approaching the Charleston sea buoy, slowing for the first time in 3 days as the ebbing current pushed against us on the long ride up the inlet. That wasn’t the only change. We were entering Charleston harbor on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. It seemed that everyone who owned a boat was on the water. There were sailboat races, fishing boats, cigarette boats, even a couple of cruise ships. The only good news was that the big commercial vessels were not on the move. As we approached the City Marina dock (our first time staying on the Ashley River), we were almost side struck by another sailboat heading into the same marina. Do we have a target painted on our side?
We pulled into the dock just ahead of a departing cruise ship and breathed a sigh of relief once the lines were secure. Customs cleared us in on the dock about an hour later and we were officially back in the US. Legal and everything.
We had never traveled so far in one run or been so far offshore, but were grateful for the company of other cruisers and the good forecast that held for the length of the trip. It was a great trip, which we can only hope will be repeated the next time we venture out into the ocean.
 Dave stuidies the bus routes Boat Stuff
It’s been a while since we’ve done much “boat stuff”, but now that we’re tied to a dock (we moved to the Maritime Center the day after we arrived in Charleston), we are taking advantage of the access to shore to get a few things done. Putting over 50 hours on the engine brought us up to an oil change cycle. Once we finished that, Dave decided to change the Racor fuel filter and drain the bowl. Unfortunately, the o-ring in the drain fill split, so he couldn’t re-fill the bowl until we had a replacement. In the process of finding a place to order the o-ring, he located a valve that he could install in the drain fill, making it easier to drain in the future. He was able to order it on Sunday and install it on Tuesday. Not too bad. He also ordered a spare parts kit for the Racor from Bayshore Marine, which contained all the the o-rings and gaskets for the unit should the same thing happen again.
The other big project on the boat is the batteries. Dave proceeded to charge and equalize them, but was becoming convinced that one of the house batteries was worse than the others and drawing it down. He collected some statistics about the batteries and sent them off to Trojan to get their assessment. They confirmed that replacing, at a minimum, the one battery would prevent the others from being dragged down by it.
Cathy spent her time doing wash, pulling the seat covers off all of the cushions and airing out any that smelled of mildew (which wasn’t many). She re-sorted the V-berth, cleaned all the canvas and glass and anything that had exposed to saltwater over the winter. Hopefully, this would prevent moisture collecting in it over the summer and minimize any mildew problems.
We, of course, did the usual re-provisioning in Charleston, making trips to Harris Teeter and taking the bus to Sam’s Club, Wal-mart and Boater’s World.
Enjoying Charleston  Liz and Pat from Cats Paw Our boat projects haven’t kept us from enjoying Charleston while we’re here. We got to meet in person several boats we traveled with, having dinner the first night with Jill and Wayne on Born to Cruise and having a visit from Pat and Liz on Cats Paw. Later in our stay, Pride, Tradition and Perserverance2 arrived in the Maritime Center for a few days.
We’ve managed to get in several walks downtown, which is especially beautiful this time of year as flowers bloom from every window box and planting by the historic homes. And, of course, there is the on-going show of boats coming and going at the Maritime Center, from the grand training schooner, Harvey Gamage, to the more humble, but no less dramatic Outward Bound boats, which docked under oar power. We were even treated to a shark cleaning lesson by a local boater, giving a talk to some local high school students.
 Sunset over sailboat at Manjack Cay Parting Shots - Manjack Cay
While we waited for weather in the Bahamas, we took the time to explore more of Manjack Cay, hiking north along the Sea of Abaco, following the trails to tiny Coconut Tree Beach and then the cove that defined the northern anchorage. On our way up the trails, we visited with Bill and Leslie on shore a bit and offered to help out in a small way, by hanging a trail sign as we hiked. With the weather a bit warmer, we swam some beside the boat, diving down to collect a few sea biscuits and sea urchin shells, that were covering the bottom.
We also got to meet a number of other boaters in the harbor that were joining us in waiting for better crossing weather, as we gathered on the beach for a get-together Friday night before we left.
We say goodbye to the these lovely waters with fond memories and hopes to come back to see more of them.
 Cathy relaxing at Grabbers As we explore some cays north of the Whale in the Abacos, we look for the weather window to travel across the Gulf Stream back to the US. Before coming north from the central Abacos, we managed to visit some new places before taking leave of the Hub of Abaco for the last time this trip.
 Sojer Day
What on earth is a Sojer, you might ask? Well, in addition to being a name for a hermit crab, it is also the nickname for the residents on Man of War Cay that sits east of Marsh Harbor in the hub of the Abacos. We managed to arrive on the day of their first (annual?) heritage festival, which they have named Sojer Day. For a first time event, they did it up right.
There was a heritage trail through town, with more than 30 sites described by plaques outside. A temporary museum was set up and we were allowed to visit inside it along with some other historic buildings along the main street. The island is known for its boatbuilding history, which was in evidence with a ropemaking demonstration and the inner workings of Joe Albury’s studio, where he builds wooden Abaco sailing dinghies and detailed model boats that are works of art. The sail making involved with the early days of the industry evolved into a canvas bag business and they were sewing right in the shop while we watched.  No festival is complete without food, and they had some great selections. We enjoyed some cracked conch, Bahamian peas ‘n’ rice, and afterward some hand-cranked ice cream, which tasted great on this warm day. Further down the street, Sammie Boy’s Gift Shop had a cooler with cold soda that was available for free. It hit the spot!
An unexpected surprise was a two-for-one deal that the marina was offering for the festival. Since it had been about a month since we had last fully charged our batteries and with the forecast predicting high winds shifting from the southwest to the northwest, we decided to pull into the dock for the first time in a month and stay in Man of War until our batteries were charged and the winds subsided. An unexpected power outage on the island on Saturday night and then again on Sunday enabled us to negotiate a 2nd 2-for-1 deal for 2 more nights to finish the charging. We took advantage of all the marina’s services, including showers, laundry, water, power (of course), internet, Cable TV (!), and a wonderful freshwater pool. It was like entering a parallel universe. Dave was able to finish charging the batteries and attempted to equalize them. Our oldest battery is not holding a charge as well as the others and needs to be replaced, but that’s something we’ll pursue once we get back to the states.
With our extended stay, we were able to explore the island by taking several walks and even made it to church on Palm Sunday for the first time in a while. We had not made to Man of War Cay on our last visit, but we’re glad we had time to enjoy it this time around.
West Winds
There’s something about a west wind. As you may recall from the Wizard of Oz, it didn’t bring anything good. In the Abacos, as in much of the Bahamas, a west wind is a similar bad omen. A front is passing through. And with the location of most anchorages open to the west, there are few places to hide when the wind shifts to this direction. But west winds aren’t all bad. When the wind blows out of the west, the ocean generally is calm, making for good snorkeling on the ocean reefs. The trick is to find an anchorage where you can ride out the west winds so that you can get over the dune to the ocean and still have your boat in the same place when you return. We were about to take a chance that this would be the case as we made our way once again to Great Guana Cay.
Leaving Man of War Cay on Wednesday (April 8) just after noon, we were facing a forecast that had unusually light winds from the west. These would eventually shift to the east, placing us in the lee of most of the islands. As we mulled over which direction to go anchor for the night, we came up with an unusual plan for us.
First, we needed to provision, since we would shortly be heading north of the Whale and, until we reached the states, would be out of reach of any supplies. That meant we needed to go to Marsh Harbor. We also wanted to try one more time to get to a famous potluck on Great Guana Cay that happened every Wednesday. Anchoring in Fishers Bay on Guana Cay in any westerly winds usually means it is too rough for us to make it to shore anywhere near dry. But maybe this time it would work. Then Dave had an idea. Why not do both? We did some quick math and decided we could get to Marsh Harbor, anchor quickly and then take a couple of hours to get our supplies. We would then pull anchor and head over to Great Guana Cay, making it there by 6pm in time to anchor again and head into Grabbers for the 7pm potluck. It might just work.
As we pulled into Marsh Harbor just before 2pm, the harbor was crowded. Apparently many other boats had the same idea (since many were gone by the time we left). Cathy waited on the boat to ensure it was settled, while Dave ran over to the marina to get more fuel. When he returned, we headed in to shore for groceries, a Batelco phone card and some rum. Then, we went back to the boat to unload and head out. It wasn’t quite 4pm and we were right on schedule. Everything was going great.
That is, until we lost the dinghy.
Dave was re-attaching the bridle, which required him to move the painter from the dinghy padeye to the bridle ring. The problem was that he hadn’t yet attached to the bridle to the dinghy itself. As he hopped out of the dinghy, he realized his mistake, only to see it slowly drift away. He was about to jump in after it, when we started flagging down nearby boaters. We finally caught someone’s attention and they brought it safely back to us.
Maybe, we should slow down just a little bit.
After weighing anchor, Cathy went below to stow the provisions and to make the sweet potato casserole for the potluck. She had just put it in the oven when she heard the engine slow as Dave arrived at the anchorage. As we anchored, the casserole cooked and by 6:30, all was ready for us to leave the boat to head into Grabbers for the potluck. It was an amazingly calm night and we had a dry ride in.
We had a great time at the potluck, spending time with Ned and Terry MacIntosh (Pat and Fred’s friends living on Guana) and enjoying some great food. There was even a spectacular sunset, with a perfectly clear sky, unobstructed by any clouds on the horizon. We hoped for a green flash, but were disappointed yet again. But what a great day. Although the winds had kicked up the waves on the way back to Orion, we managed to stay pretty dry and congratulated ourselves on a perfect end to the day.
The next day, the winds remained calm and had not yet shifted to the east. We decided to try snorkeling on the ocean, since the Cruisers Net reported it calm out there. Stopping by Termite Terrace, Terry told us about a reef on the ocean just up the street from their house. She and Ned joined us for a swim in a flat calm ocean over a beautiful reef. With no clouds in the sky, everything below was brilliant from the sun streaming into the water. Wow! Afterwards, we headed back to the Settlement Harbor, where we enjoyed a picnic lunch by the water. Finally, we ended up at Grabbers, trying one of their signature frozen drinks and a dip in their freshwater pool to wash off the salt. Later, we had Donn and Sandi from Cypraea over to Orion for cocktails. We had met them at church on Man of War Cay on Palm Sunday and again at Grabbers. It was to be our last night in the central Abacos, as we were to head north through the Whale the next day. So, we were glad to see them one more time before we left.
The west winds had brought us good luck this time.  North of the Whale
We had hoped to spend Easter Sunday at church in Green Turtle Cay, but the winds kicked up (contrary to forecast), such that we didn’t think we could make it in and back any where near dry. The holding off New Plymouth Settlement is not the best, so we decided we should move up to Manjack and spend a few days there. Even when the winds have been blowing hard, we have held there. The anchorage was busy at Manjack with 17 other boats joining us Easter Sunday, together with a sea plane that landed for a short visit with the folks living on shore, maneuvering in and around the boats anchored nearby before taking off again.
 Seaplane leaving anchorage We made it ashore to visit with Bill and Leslie and their guests, as well as taking the ocean trail to the beach on the eastern side of the cay. It was a longer walk than we initially thought, but the trail was well maintained and the beach was lovely white sand, with a calm ocean. We went in for a brief swim to cool off from the walk and then headed back toward the east side of the island where the boat was anchored.
A few days later, we took the dinghy back up the mangrove creek to explore and were rewarded with sightings of turtles, rays, starfish, egrets and some beautiful scenery.
We left Manjack only briefly overnight one night to weather some predicted SW winds and possible squalls. We were by ourselves by the Treasure Cay ferry dock opposite Green Turtle on the north side of Whale. Our anchor set the best Dave’s seen it in sand. We did get the storms, which were dramatic with lots of lightning, rain and hail, but luckily not the high winds. A similar experience the next night back at Manjack caused us to lose some sleep, but with no drama in the anchorage.
It’s All Good
We’re still not sure when we’ll cross back to the US, but while we wait we’re enjoying the sights and scenery in the Bahamas.
 Marianna at Green Turtle Cay We are on our own for the first time in several months, having said a sad goodbye to our traveling companions – Pat and Fred on Marianna. We enjoyed our last 2 weeks together in the Abacos.
Hopetown One of the most protected harbors in the Abacos is in Hopetown harbor on Elbow Cay, a barrier island just east of Marsh Harbor on Great Abaco. It hums with activity, since it is a major destination for tourists and the snowbirds who make this their winter home. The harbor is full of moorings and we were able to pick up a couple for our weeklong stay in this scenic harbor, dominated by the candy-striped Elbow Reef Light. The entrance to Hopetown is notoriously shallow, so we had to time our entrance for the middle of a rising tide to ensure we had the depth we needed and the room to get off if we made any mistakes. We had no problems, but a large mega-yacht that arrived closer to high tide was pretty much digging its own channel as it maneuvered within the mooring field to get to the dock.  We enjoyed an evening with Fred’s aunt and uncle The day we arrived was warmer and calmer than many we have seen this winter, so it made it possible for us to launch our own dinghy for the first time since Georgetown. (We had been carpooling with Pat and Fred in the interim.) We took a quick trip into town to get a tour and then joined Pat and Fred in their dinghy for a trip outside the harbor up the inside coast of the island to visit Fred’s uncle Bud and his wife Moira at the home on the north end of the island. They originally had sailed their boat down from New England each year. After building the house, they now fly down and leave the boat behind. They enjoy the strong sense of community that they find on the island. We saw this community in action at a benefit concert the next night at the United Methodist church, which played to a packed house.
We were finally in a position to do some snorkeling as well, with the warmer temperatures and calmer seas. We hiked over to the ocean side of the island and swam just off the south beach to see wonderful coral formations and lots of fish, including some dazzling schools of blue tang, some rays and a nurse shark. When the next front came through, the protected harbor gave us a false sense of how bad it was, since we were sheltered from both the winds and waves. We waited out a couple of days of the winds and then decided we had to move on if we were going to see any more of the Abacos. Plus we needed to re-provision and Marsh Harbor would have to be the stop for doing that.
Close Encounters
Since it is just a short 8 mile trip to Marsh Harbor, we weren’t in any hurry to leave. Also, we needed to time our departure with the rising tide, just as we had done for our arrival. We used the morning to get some wash done and top off the water tanks before heading out of the harbor in the early afternoon. The winds and waves in the Sea of Abaco were keeping most boats in their harbors, so we had little company once we got outside. This made it all the more amazing when we found ourselves within a couple feet of a huge 47 foot chartered catamaran, who claimed (incorrectly) to have right of way as they were overtaking us. Rather than hailing us on the radio, the captain chose to stand out on the bow and shout at us about the pre-eminent right of way of sailboats under sail over anything under power. Luckily, we narrowly avoided any damage as Dave swerved away when it became the only obvious choice to avoid a collision.
After we arrived in Marsh Harbor, Dave met with both the charter company and the port authority, who both agreed that the behavior was unnecessarily aggressive (and wrong) in an otherwise uncrowded Sea of Abaco. The charter company planned to include this particular rule of the road in their initial charter briefings.
Marsh Harbor
What Marsh Harbor lacks in scenery, it makes up for in convenience. You can find just about anything in this harbor, and we took advantage of much of it. We shopped 2 of the grocery stores, the pharmacy (called the Chemist Shoppe), the hardware stores (there are at least 3) and topped off the boat’s fuel and water. We got on the internet to do e-mail and make some phone calls. We were now in a position to head out again.  The proximity of the reef and the sheltered waters where it lies make it a popular snorkeling spot, especially when the nearby ocean reefs are unapproachable due to high winds and waves The proximity of services also means there are lots of boats here. We managed to find a good spot to anchor, but it was a little tighter than we had hoped. Within all the boats, we were able to connect with other cruisers that we hadn’t seen for a while. Our Cat Island net control, Fred and Debbie on Early Out were there, and we enjoyed an evening with them. Harvey and Lily on Pride made a dramatic entrance to the Abacos on a Friday before we left. We were able to get the first-hand account of their harrowing passage through the North Bar Harbor channel with less than ideal conditions as we joined them Sunday night for cocktails. We also saw Ian and Sue on Kokopelli who spend their winters in Marsh Harbor. We had last talked to them as we left New Bern, NC back in November.
Goodbye from Green Turtle Cay  Having waited out so much weather in Marsh Harbor, we now needed to move through the Whale, so Pat and Fred could be positioned to choose the weather window to cross back to the US. We had decided we would spend another couple weeks in the Abacos, so this would be our last trip together. On Monday, March 30th, we headed north in light winds (again no sailing), through the Whale (the open ocean passage for a couple of miles) and in to anchor off the Bluff House at Green Turtle Cay. The morning’s overcast skies had cleared and the winds remained light, so we would have a beautiful calm night. After a swim, we dinghied in to the Bluff House in White Sound and explored the beautiful grounds a bit before enjoying a wonderful dinner by the water. It was a great last night together. As we headed back to the boat, the sun was setting as a red ball behind the boats. It didn’t get much better than this.
We awoke the next morning to overcast skies, which would linger all day, perhaps picking up on our sadness at going separate ways after so much time together. After helping them stow their dinghy, which had carried us so many places over the past 3 months, we hugged goodbye and retreated to Orion. If all goes well Pat and Fred will achieve their goal of heading out for the US on April 1st.
Fair winds, Marianna. We’ll miss you.
South Again
As for the crew on Orion, we waited out the morning’s rain and then headed south back through the Whale to anchor in Fisher’s Bay. Although it cleared for most of the trip, we saw the storm clouds coming at us as we made to anchor off Great Guana Cay. We were just about done, when it let loose. We donned our swimsuits and let the rain wash away the humidity of the day, as well as the salt on Orion.
We'll be bouncing around the lower Abacos for a couple more weeks now, enjoying our last hurrah in the Bahamas.
 Marianna heads out Egg Island Cut for the Abacos We’ve returned to the northern Bahamas – the Abacos – the islands we cruised 2 years ago on our first winter aboard. After spending more than a week in Eleuthera (a large out island west of the Exumas and south of the Abacos), we moved north across the Northeast Providence Channel and into the Little Harbor Channel, near the southwestern tip of Great Abaco. We are now on a mooring in Hopetown and hope to spend the rest of the month in the Abacos.
 Gregorytown is home to a Pineapple Festival. Eleuthera
We arrived in Rock Sound, Eleuthera just ahead of a more significant cold front passage. The sound offers the most protection from the northwest for many miles around, so were joined by several other boats seeking the protection it offered from the storm. The winds didn’t pipe up for another day and a half, but the wind direction was going to slowly clock around from the east to south to west to northwest, making us a little concerned about how our anchor would hold with that much shifting. So, we were up several times during the night the storm moved through, our anchor drag alarm alerting us each time the wind shifted to a new quadrant. We held fine and were ready to move across the sound to explore the Rock Sound settlement the next day (along with everyone else, of course).
Unlike much of the Bahamas, Eleuthera has a history of success in agriculture, providing most of the fresh fruits and vegetables to the rest of the islands. It is best known for its pineapples, although we never managed to find one, despite our best efforts. After spending our first day doing chores (groceries, internet), we spent the next day in a rental car to see more of this 110 mile island. We were able to make it up to see the Glass Window, a dramatic break in the island where the ocean finally chipped away a small rock bridge in its efforts to reach the shallow banks on the western side of the island. We got as far as The Current, a small village that sits on the one significant navigation hazard in Eleuthera – Current Cut. It is short, but tricky to enter and the current can run as much as 5 knots under certain conditions. A few days later, we would visit it by boat. Pat had some friends on the island who lived just north of Governor’s Harbor. After a quick visit with them by car, Pat and Fred had them join them for a day sail back up to the cove off their house (Balara Bay, just north of Governor’s Harbor). We anchored off their dock and shared cocktails with them on Marianna after the sail. The next morning, we pulled anchor and headed for Current Cut, arriving near high water, but with cloudy skies. There would be no reading the shallow water on the entrance. We were very much dependent on our chartplotter to guide us through. It was unnerving to thread the narrow entrance channel, getting within 150 yards of a rocky shore before making a hard turn to port around the entrance rocks into a 3 knot current. But we crossed it without incident and anchored soon after just north of the cut on the western side.  Spanish Wells fishing fleet Spanish Wells
Our final stop in the Eleuthera island chain was at Spanish Wells on St. George’s Cay. It is a tiny commercial fishing village on an island just north of the main island of Eleuthera and south of the deep water Northeast Providence Channel. We pulled into a marina here for the first time in 6 weeks and spent time doing the things you can only do when plugged in and and with ready fresh water. The batteries enjoyed being fully charged for the first time since Nassau, and we managed to get the salt encrusted on the surface of just about everything washed off with fresh water from the dock. We topped off the water tanks, did laundry and, of course took real showers. Aaaah. We had a good enough internet connection to try Skype and caught up with the kids and our parents.
Pat pulled out her sewing machine and did some repairs to Marianna’s sails and our enclosure. She even helped us repair the fabric in our anchor bag, after Cathy pinned together the replacement material. We did manage to find some time to walk through this quaint, immaculate little village. The houses and lawns are all amazingly well kept, a habit that carried over to the commercial fishing boats, which looked the best of any fleet we’ve seen.  Settlement Harbor, Great Guana Cay On to the Abacos
With the first long stretch of mild weather we had had in a long time, we could chose one of several days to cross from Eleuthera to the Abacos. After 2 nights in the Spanish Wells Yacht Haven, we pulled out to head to Egg Island. We would anchor just off the cut to the Northeast Providence Channel and head out at first light the next morning. (First light was now one hour later, since the time change over the weekend.) It was a 50 mile run and we wanted to be in well before dark. We lead almost a dozen other boats on the trip north, most of which had anchored at Royal Island for the night. It was an easy trip with easterly swells that were fairly mild. But the wind was too light for us to sail. So, we settled for motorsailing as much as we could. We arrived at Lynyard Cay and joined the others there for another calm night at anchor. Now that we were in the Abacos, almost any destination in this area was just a day’s sail away
Great Guana Cay
After briefly considering a snorkeling stop off Sandy Cay, a few miles north of Lynyard Cay, we were quickly persuaded to change destinations by the large (up to 9 feet) swells coming in from the ocean through the cut opposite the island. So, we quickly changed our destination to Great Guana Cay. Pat and Fred had never visited it before and we looked forward to seeing it again. We sailed all the way there, and then dropped anchor in Fisher’s Bay, which seemed fuller than we remembered, with 21 other boats. There was still plenty of room, though.
On Friday, we headed into town to explore the island. We had not gone far when we came across Pat and Fred’s friends, Ned and Terry MacIntosh, who lived in a small cottage on the harbor. They affectionately call it “Termite Terrace”. Ned is in his 90’s and is known for the Merry-Mac wooden boats he built for years. Terry and he spend their winters on Great Guana Cay. From there we visited the rest of the settlement and ended up at the famous Nippers bar on the top of the ridge overlooking the ocean. It was a little more subdued than its famous reputation led them to expect, so Pat and Fred asked about the pig roast. We decided to return on Sunday, when we assured them it would be a very different experience – which it was. Spring Break was in full force, so there was lots of people-watching to add to the view when we returned. That was more what they had expected. After enjoying 3 days on Guana, we planned to move on to Hopetown on Monday. So, we gathered on Marianna to enjoy the last of Sunday’s pleasant weather, when we remembered that the shuttle launch would take place around sunset. We managed to get a scratchy Florida radio station that was broadcasting the lift-off live. Unfortunately, there was a large band of clouds on the northwestern horizon where Discovery would be taking off. We heard the lift-off announcement and then waited. And waited. And waited. Then, THERE it was. You could hear the cheers on neighboring boats. A streak of light across the sky, another burst and then a smaller light moved on. The light of the setting sun lit the con trail a bright gold for a long time, but more interesting than that was the glowing cloud from the rocket firing. For at least a half hour, it was lit up like the moon, a bright glowing white. It was an incredible show. And a perfect end to the day.
 Dave and Fred chat at New Bight As our last entry ended, we were at Long Island, contemplating whether to move onto Cat Island -- the next out island north of us and generally on a route to the Abacos, or Conception Island – due east of Long Island and a little more remote. Well, we made up our minds and have headed north to Eleuthera, where we’ll hopefully be able to post this update. As our last entry ended, we were at Long Island, contemplating whether to move onto Cat Island -- the next out island north of us and generally on a route to the Abacos, or Conception Island – due east of Long Island and a little more remote. Well, we made up our minds and have headed north to Eleuthera, where we’ll hopefully be able to post this update.
 Cape Santa Maria Resort beach at Calabash Bay North to Cat Island
With the weather forecast in mind, we decided to head toward Cat Island, leaving Conception Island for another visit. To break up the trip, we stopped first at Calabash Bay on the northern tip of Long Island, home of the Cape Santa Maria Resort. We were a little on guard for the surge warnings in the guides, which turned out to be well-founded. Although we were well protected from the east winds, the swells rolled into the anchorage from the west. As the winds shifted to the southeast, this put the swells on the beam and made for an uncomfortable night. The resort is lovely though, and we did manage to go ashore to see how the other half lives.
 Marianna under sail from Long Island to Cat Island We were up early the next morning and on our way across the Exuma Sound to Cat Island, watching with fascination as the sizable waves crashed on the reef on the tip of Long Island. The swells were now coming from the southeast, but their height was still up, making our downwind sail impractical. The boat was swinging too much with each swell. We decided to motorsail with just the headsail, taking a course 25o to starboard of our rhumb line course to take better advantage of the wind angle. By noon, we saw the startling emerald green line of shallow water that marked the banks off Cat Island, at the far edge of the very deep royal blue waters of Exuma Sound. The waves diminished as we rounded Hawk’s Nest Point. We cut the engine and sailed into New Bight, where we set the anchor in the shadow of the Hermitage, Father Jerome’s retreat, built on the highest hill in the Bahamas.
The water was calm and shallow enough that we decided to swim out and look at the anchor. What we saw was interesting. The anchor had obviously dropped and then dragged for about 30 feet before it finally set, with only one fluke buried in the sand. We were a little uncomfortable with the set, so we decided to try again in a little different place. This time, it set right away. Dave swam out to look at it again and found a better set. The winds were supposed to increase in a couple of days, so we wanted to be sure it would hold.
 Marianna and Orion at anchor in New Bight New Bight, Cat Island
The next day, we headed in to explore the island. Our first stop had to be the biggest attraction on Cat Island – Father Jerome’s Hermitage on Mt. Alvernia (aka Como Hill)(. Father Jerome had converted from Anglicanism to Catholicism and become a priest later in life. He asked for permission to retire here on Cat Island, and lived initially in a cave on the hill as he hauled the stone and built the structure that is now referred to as the Hermitage. Like the many churches he built throughout the Bahamas, the structure is solid and built to withstand the hurricanes that can visit the islands. It is also built on a scale for just one person -- although it looks much larger from a distance. We were anchored just off the road that led up the hill (the highest in the Bahamas at 206 ft), so we it was only about a 30 minute climb to the top.
On our return down to the Queens Highway, we visited the nearby bakery and the service station, which had fuel, propane, a convenience store with a decent variety of groceries and even cars for rent. It doesn’t get much more convenient than that. Although we took the longer walk to a larger grocery store the next day, we found that we would be satisfied with the nearer store. We also went in search of fresh conch and/or lobster, visiting Regatta Park, a row of small huts by the beach where short order meals were served. There was no lobster today, but maybe tomorrow. A familiar line in the Bahamas. We eventually hit the stand on the right day and had some great lobster and fish. We even bought one to cook back on the boat, which we combined with some precious steaks to have a rare evening of surf and turf on Marianna. On Sunday, we managed to hitch a ride with the catholic priest up to the Holy Redeemer Church. He arrives every other week from Nassau by plane to perform services there. It was a small congregation and an unusual mix of nationalities that were in attendance, but the message was thoughtful and the singing enthusiastic for a small group. We remained the only 2 boats in the harbor for a couple of days until Early Out arrived late Sunday,. On Monday, they joined us on Orion for hor d’ouvres. As they left, we reminded them that it was the responsibility of the newest boat in the harbor to host the “Cat Island Cruisers Net” in the morning – a tongue in cheek reference to the much more regimented Georgetown community. To our delight and amusement, we were greeted the next morning to an announcement of “please turn to channel 18 for the Cat Island Cruisers Net”. We were then treated to the weather (windy), the news (nothing good), a welcome of new arrivals (none reported), and a request for community announcements. We cruisers are nothing if not organized.  On to Little San Salvador
After spending a little over a week at New Bight, we finally got the right weather to start moving north to Eleuthera. We had a good sail with the winds finally down to a manageable level (although we had both sails furled partially), as we headed north to West Bay on Little San Salvador, the island that the current cruise line owners have renamed Half Moon Cay for their passengers. The cruise line staff greeted us as we were about to anchor, telling that we could go ashore once the cruise ship left.
West Bay is a crescent shaped beach open to the Exuma Sound on the west. Within a mile from shore, the water depths are over 1000 feet deep. The difference in water color is once again very dramatic. It was fascinating to watch the cruise ship activities both on shore and on and around the ship. The biggest negative was that, once again, the swells coming in from Exuma Sound were mild, but on the beam and made for a not so restful night. We were up the next morning and off for another good sail -- this time with full main and headsail -- to Rock Sound, Eleuthera, where we planned to wait out a cold front and maybe do some exploring of another Bahamas Out Island.
 After almost 2 weeks of sustained 20+ knot winds, the Georgetown harbor finally calmed down to make it possible to get off the boat without getting drenched. We then got busy provisioning with water, fuel and groceries and made ready to head out to Long Island.
Anchoring drama comes to an end
In our last update, we described the entanglement that resulted in our chain being wrapped on another boat’s drive shaft. The chain was successfully removed, but we weren’t yet using it again. We now needed to re-assemble it and anchor on our primary anchor and chain. This required a little planning because we had the rope part of our rode spliced to the chain that had been loaned to us by another cruiser. That chain was already attached to our primary anchor. Also, the bridle plate was configured into a new longer bridle to compensate for the shorter, borrowed chain. We needed to get the rope spliced to our chain, the chain shackled to the primary anchor, the bridle reconfigured with its standard 15ft 3-strand nylon lines, and the anchor hauled and then re-deployed. We needed to do all this preferably without spending too much time motoring around in the harbor in the process and without getting all of the line and chain tangled.
So, we developed a plan.
While still anchored on our borrowed chain, Dave would remove the end of the rope rode from its fitting in the anchor locker. He would then splice this onto the end of our chain. At this point, our ground tackle would consist of a Delta anchor, 91 ft of borrowed chain, 200 ft of rope and then 130 ft of chain. A little odd, but it wouldn’t stay that way long. At this point, Cathy would start the engine. We would then ease up on the anchor so that Dave could retrieve the anchor bridle. He would then re-work the bridle to its original configuration. At this point, we would pull the anchor up. Cathy would then motor downwind (the winds and seas were still up in the harbor at this point), so that Dave could remove the anchor from the existing chain and re-shackle it to the other end of our chain, and stow our chain in the locker to position it to be redeployed. We would move back over to Volleyball Beach and anchor off Marianna. Once anchored, Dave could remove the borrowed chain from the now reverse end of the rope rode, stow the rope back in the anchor locker and re-attach it to the fitting in the anchor locker. We would finally be back on our own anchor and in a position to return the chain to the generous donor.
Amazingly, we managed to pull it off without losing an anchor, chain or other ground tackle hardware in the process. With Fred’s help, we returned the chain the next day and were grateful to put the whole incident behind us for now and enjoy Georgetown – if we could just get off the boat.
 Doing Georgetown
It’s all about the wind. For over a week, it churned up the waters in Elizabeth Harbor off Georgetown, causing us (along with the many other cruisers in the harbor) to hunker down on the boat. It took something significant to draw us out, since we were guaranteed to get pretty soaked along with anything we took along in the dinghy with us. In addition to the high winds, the temperatures hovered in the sixties to low 70’s. Hatches were kept closed. Enclosures sealed. This isn’t exactly the weather everyone envisions when they think of the sunny Bahamas.
We managed to brave the elements one night to head across the harbor for games on Marianna. Later in the week, after re-anchoring closer to Stocking Island, we suited up in our foul weather gear and headed up to Honeymoon Beach for a cookout one evening with Eleanor M and several other boats in the harbor. And then a week after arriving, we finally made it into Georgetown proper, buying some coconut bread from Mom’s Bakery van, seeing the Exuma Market, the Straw Market and the Peace and Plenty. We managed to get to the Batelco office to buy more phone cards, since only a few phone calls home had depleted our initial investment. (We still can’t figure out how much it costs a minute to make these calls.) Later we headed over to St. Francis Resort and Marina on Stocking Island for lunch – and some internet. (Having been long over a week since pulling our mail, it was a relief to finally catch up with it.)
Although we made it into Beach Church on Sunday, it wasn’t until Monday afternoon that we finally visited the famous Volleyball Beach in the afternoon when folks were actually playing volleyball. On Tuesday, Pat served as our guide on a long walk exploring the beach on the Exuma Sound side of Stocking Island and up to the high point of Monument Hill. Wednesday night, as the winds began to die, we actually traveled over to Marianna in our dinghy (instead of hitching a ride with Fred) to play games with the folks on Pride and Tradition. We stayed pretty dry and enjoyed the evening of Dominoes and conversation.  Dave is half-way through his effort to bail out our dinghy, which completely filled with water on a run into town. It’s not a trip for the faint of heart. Boat Stuff
Being stuck on the boat for days on end, we were cut off from the services we were used to on shore. Wash was piling up, we were running out of fresh foods, like fruit and bread. Internet wasn’t an option. So, we made use of the time to do things the old fashioned way. Dave risked swamping the dinghy to haul 3 jugs of water from town. We used some of this to wash some of the piles of dirty clothes, using the abundant wind to dry them fast, as we hung them on every inch of lifeline, boom, cockpit seats, etc. Cathy dusted off her bread recipes and made some loaves to let us have sandwiches and toast.
 Sunsaver regulator installed in engine room. Dave did some projects on the boat, wiring the solar panels into a regulator which would prevent the batteries from getting overcharged in the hope that that this might actually be a problem. He wired the panels more permanently together as well.
 Nancy from Finisterre, James from Sunsweet, Dave, Pat and Fred converse on Volleyball Beach. Despite the difficult beginning of the relationship, we developed a friendship with Graham and Nancy on Finisterre. Dave helped them take advantage of the capabilities of their Garmin chartplotter, wiring in a buzzer like ours that would sound if an alarm went off. Then he showed them how we enabled the anchor drag to help them get a heads up is they started to drag again. Later on the beach, Cathy and Nancy played a few games of Scrabble, something they both love to play. In a strange twist, the afternoon before we left Georgetown, we were all gathered in conversation on Volleyball Beach: Nancy from Finisterre, James from Sunsweet who had loaned us the chain, and Pat and Fred from Marianna.
Maybe that’s making lemonade from the lemons.
 St. Josephs Church overlooks Thompson Bay Long Island
An interesting fact that we learned just before leaving Georgetown is that it lies just north of the Tropic of Cancer (Lat. 23o30’). So, when we left on Valentine’s Day, we would be crossing this line that we learned about in grade school geography and entering the “tropics”. Cool!
Our next destination was initially uncertain, since we wanted to see whether we could sail to either Conception or Long Island. As it turned out, we couldn’t sail to either, so we motored to Thompson Bay, Long Island, which was a new destination for all of us and a good staging point for either Cat or Conception as a next stop.
 Spanish church ruins near Salt Pond The huge bay was nearly empty when we arrived, so we had our choice of anchoring spots. The next day we rented a car to see as much of the island as we could squeeze in. We traveled north as far as Simms, which is where the Tropic of Cancer passes through. However, we were disappointed to see that they make very little of this fact. If we hadn’t taken our own GPS, we wouldn’t have known where it was. So, we turned back south to see the sites on the lower island. We made it as far south as Clarencetown, where we saw the 2 famous Father Jerome churches and had some lunch at the marina near the harbor entrance.
By far the highlight of the day was Dean’s Blue Hole, the deepest blue hole (660’) in the world. Although we didn’t explore its depths, the snorkeling at its edge was good, if a little eerie as the bank sloped quickly down into the dark blue deep water. There were some braver individuals doing “free dive” training which was taking them for long minutes deep into the dark blue water before resurfacing. Our only disappointment was the presence of a lot of seaweed, which the locals were telling us is usually not there.  Graham, Val, Fred and Dave on Long Island The next day, Bonnie Lass arrived, and we joined them for a walk just across to the ocean from Thompson Bay. The winds had shifted to the west overnight and the ocean was calm and inviting once we made it over the hill to the beach. After cooling off in the water, we trekked back to the dinghy, to arrive just ahead of a storm. Like true cruisers, we stayed out on deck in the rare downpour, showering, washing the deck and anything else that needed washing with fresh water. It was great!
More Out Islands to See
We plan to stop at more of the “out islands” in the far Bahamas as we make our way gradually north, so our time in the “tropics” will be brief, but it won’t be getting cold any time soon.
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