Late March - Island Hopping 03/31/2010
 Orion anchored off Treasure Cay We spent the last 2 weeks of March near the “hub” of the Abacos, in the islands immediately surrounding Marsh Harbor, before heading back to the states in another long run to Charleston.  The Elbow Cay Reef Light rises up behind Fred and Julie in Hopetown harbor. Let There Be Light We returned to Hopetown, with its signature candy-striped lighthouse, for a couple of days during this visit to the Abacos. We managed to snorkel the reef again, sample some conch fritters at Munchies and take away 2 freshly-baked loaves of whole wheat bread (they were literally fresh out of the oven) from Vernon’s. However, the highlight of the trip was a return trip to the top of the lighthouse – this time at sunset. This is one of the few lighthouses in the world still manually lit and wound using its original works. It was a rare treat to be allowed to see how it is done.  Sea of Abaco from the Elbow Cay Reef Light at sunset About a half-hour before sunset, we dinghied over to the light, climbed the 101 steps to the top, and took in the spectacular view as the sun slowly descended over the Sea of Abaco. However, as the sun sank lower, we found ourselves alone at the top, expecting the lighthouse keeper to appear any minute to begin the lighting process. But the sun dipped below the horizon and there was no one even approaching the lighthouse entry below. Also, the interior of the lighthouse was getting pretty dark with the dwindling light, which made us a little worried about descending safely. So, we headed down and began to hover around the entrance, looking for someone coming to light the light in the gathering dusk.  We were allowed to climb up on a level with the Fresnel lens. Finally, Dave saw someone at one of the cottages at the base of the light, who said he was indeed the lightkeeper and would be willing to let us watch him light the light, although usually this wasn’t allowed. We climbed back up to the top and Jeffrey followed turning on the interior lights to make the return trip easier. Jeffrey is a 2nd generation lightkeeper, following in his father’s footsteps, who retired 5 years ago after 35 years in the job. He was generous in allowing us to view his handiwork, even letting us climb up to the platform on a level with the Fresnel lens to get a better view.  Jeffrey is one of 2 lightkeepers But we didn’t delay him in his work. He climbed inside the lens (using the opening that is the light’s “off” sequence), to begin the process. In order to get the kerosene burner heated to allow it to light, Jeffrey started by pouring alcohol into a small pan that fitted into the column that held the light’s mantle and lit this. Then, he had to wait for 15 to 20 minutes while it heated the burner. While he waited, he took down the curtains that shield the lens from the sun, preventing any accidental fires created by the lens’ magnifying effect on the sun during the day. Soon, smoke started rising from the mantle, indicating the burner had reached the right temperature to be lit. It didn’t take long after lighting before it was glowing bright, but it was still amazing at how such a small light could become such a dramatic beacon. Next he had to release the brake that would allow the lens to spin, creating the beacon’s signature frequency. Finally, he raised the weight that drove the lens’ rotation by operating a crank beneath the light. This would allow it to turn for 2 hours, when he would be back to do it again.    Jeffrey shares the lightkeeper’s job with another man, who has been doing it for 37 years, each taking the job of cranking the weight every 2 hours for half the night. Our thanks to him for this fascinating view into the lightkeeper’s special world.  Orion sails into the sunrise across the Sea of Abaco. Great Guana - Treasure Cay - Marsh Harbor We kept bouncing back and forth between the anchorages across the Sea of Abaco, staying near Great Abaco when the winds blew from the west and moving to the out islands when they settled and blew from the east. At Great Guana, we snorkeled, walked the beach, enjoyed the pool and the view at Nippers, and socialized at the Wednesday potluck at Grabbers. While at Treasure Cay on Great Abaco, we sampled the famous Café La Florence cinnamon bun and took in their award-winning beach, and then back in Marsh Harbor, we made preparations for our return trip to states – studying the weather, planning routes, changing the oil, topping off propane and food, and repositioning the cabin for a longer time underway.        Dave hoists the quarantine flag Back to the US As the first of April approached, we knew Marianna would be heading back to the US with the first weather window. We began looking at the weather as well, but were going to follow only if it allowed for a run all the way to Charleston. Traveling through Florida had no appeal at this point. Amazingly, a perfect weather window began to be forecast for – what else? – April 1st. As it began to be more certain that this was for real, we made our plans to take advantage of it. We sat in Marsh Harbor for the winter’s last angry blow, which actually spawned a tornado in Freeport, but as soon as the winds began to settle down, we looked for our opportunity to move.  Heading north for Manjack As with so much of our travel this winter, sailing wasn’t an option. We pulled out of our slip early on Wednesday, March 30th, timing our departure more for the high tide, rather than the diminished winds. The Sea of Abaco was rough and our northerly course took us almost directly into the seas and winds which were still gusting to 25knots. We managed to get enough of a report about the Whale to believe it would be safe to transit, which was true, but it was the roughest we have experienced with waves up to 6 feet and wind chop making the seas confused. By the time we set anchor in Manjack, Orion was covered with salt, but the price of a rougher day for this trip was small to pay for the long smooth ride in the Gulf Stream promised by Chris Parker in the forecast for the next few days. With little opportunity to sail, we wanted to position ourselves to be able to top off Orion’s fuel tanks as late as possible before leaving the Little Bahama Bank. We also wanted to arrive in Charleston earlier in the day on Saturday, since the current would turn against us around noon. (Last year we arrived at 2:30pm.) That meant shaving 5 hours or so off our running time from last year. To do this, we decided to anchor on the banks, about 15 miles beyond Great Sale Cay, our starting point for last year’s trip. We traveled from Manjack at first light, heading out at the lead of a dozen or more boats taking advantage of the same weather. Every hour or so to break up the monotony of the long day, Cathy would run a Jeopardy quiz show on the radio, using a calendar she got for Christmas. This was something we had done all winter with Marianna. However, with the first round, we were joined by Aurora, who chimed in on an answer that had Marianna’s crew stumped. With each passing round, the participants grew, until we had 5 boats playing: River Rat, Grateful Attitudes, Aurora, Marianna and Our Turn. We cruisers are easily amused.  Marianna’s crew takes a final swim in the Bahamas for this trip. Around 5:30pm, we pulled off the route line and anchored south of a giant sand bar, Lily Sand Bank, although from the endless water around us in every direction, you’d never know it. As Orion’s crew scurried to re-fuel and prepare supper before sunset, Marianna’s crew took a final swim in the blue waters of the Bahamas. Boy, maybe it’s time to jump ship.  Marianna glides along on an ocean that is like glass. We were up early the next day, leaving at 5am, an hour before Marianna. With Orion’s tighter fuel situation, we need to pace ourselves in case we couldn’t re-fuel as much as we planned due to rougher conditions. However, we needn't have worried. The roughest conditions occurred in the late afternoon that day, with 3-4ft seas. But, as forecast, these moderated to flat calm conditions, which persisted the rest of the trip. The only drama came in the form of boat traffic in and out of Savannah. For example, it took a while for a departing cargo ship to acknowledge that he would not clear both of us if he stayed on his present course. At the last minute, he turned to pass astern. Not everything was going so well on Orion, though. Before leaving the Bahama banks, Cathy went to turn on the inverter to charge the laptop, when a nasty spark and some accompanying smoke prompted Dave to disconnect it until further investigation could be done. Then, at the end of the first day, the toilet stopped working. You don’t want to know what we had to do about that one. The next morning, the ham radio wouldn’t power up. That turned out to be just a fuse, but it took a bit of work to discover it. And then, as if to remind us that it's still there, the rudder started leaking just 4 hours out of Charleston in a sea so smooth it could be mistaken for glass. Go figure.  Despite our troubles, we made it into Charleston on schedule after 51 hours at sea, entering the inlet around 8am and pulling into our slip by 9:30am, just ahead of Marianna, right on schedule. Customs was even there to meet us and clear us in just after we arrived. It was almost too easy. And now we are set to enjoy another Easter in Charleston. It doesn’t get any better than this! (Well, except for a working toilet . . .) Add Comment Early March - From Eleuthera to the Abacos 03/15/2010
 The spring weather that’s arriving in much of the US is also bringing warmer temperatures to the northern Bahamas, where we find ourselves now and for the coming few weeks.  Spanish Wells crest reflects the fishing and lobstering life of the community. Spanish Wells, Eleuthera With our arrival in Spanish Wells on the northern edge of Eleuthera, the weather for traveling north to the Abacos began to deteriorate. The fronts were stronger and the winds were staying out of the north in between them. This meant that we would need to stay here longer than we had planned, since the winds were coming from the direction we needed to go and were kicking up some nasty seas. Luckily, this wasn’t too hard to take.  Sunset at Spanish Wells We pulled into Spanish Wells Yacht Haven, in the protected harbor on the south side of St. George’s Cay, on a Saturday morning after a short run from Current Island. Although the water is plenty deep in the channel, we made sure to follow the dark blue water, because the sides shallow up dramatically and without much room for forgiveness. Unlike last year, the dock was full of other boaters, seeking haven from the predicted high winds associated with the next front. Options 3, who shared a dock with us at Emerald Bay, and River Rat, who had joined in the Thanksgiving dinner at Charleston, were among our many neighbors. Of course, lots of cruisers meant a spontaneous gathering for hor d’ouvres on the dock, which lasted until the sun set and the winds turned too chilly for casual conversation.    Having time on a dock meant we could stretch our legs with long walks on shore. We took walks through the quaint streets of Spanish Wells, along the beach, and far out to the west on nearby Russell Island, connected by a small one-lane bridge to St. George’s Cay. Our muscles complained a bit, but finally started to toughen up. On the last leg of our first long walk, we were offered a ride by a gentleman leaving the Methodist Church after Sunday services. After initially declining, Cathy finally said yes, since her legs were not cooperating any more. Our benefactor, Andy, is a long-time member of the church and has an insurance business on the island (having retired from his other occupation as a building contractor). He offered us a ride to evening services, which we gladly accepted. Over the course of that evening and the following week, we got to meet several members of his family and even stayed just long enough to enjoy one more Sunday service before heading out.      One of Spanish Wells more famous residents, at least among the cruising community, is Captain George, of the fishing vessel Lady Marie. He is one of Chris Parker’s sponsoring vessels. (Chris provides weather routing daily on the SSB radio.) He is usually traveling to the fishing grounds off Andros and other less-visited areas of the Bahamas, which is more unusual than typical cruising boat calling in. So, we were excited to see the famous Lady Marie and get a chance to talk to George as he prepared her for their next trip. He was being held up waiting for a part, but was gracious to talk to us about what he does and some of the weather he has found himself in – the worst being a hurricane off Andros with 120mph winds. Like many of the other fishing boats in the harbor, he was anxious to be out again before the season for lobster closed on April 1st.    The highlight of the week was a little league baseball game double-header between the local Spanish Wells Divers and the Blue Marlins from Nassau. The visiting team had arrived on the ferry from Nassau in the morning and was taking it back in the afternoon. That meant there was no doubt when the 2nd game would end – in time for the Blue Marlins to catch the ferry. (According to the locals, it apparently is the only thing in the Bahamas that runs promptly on time.) We stayed for the first game, watching a lopsided 13-0 victory for the Divers with Andy’s grandson batting in some runs and George, captain of Lady Marie, serving as umpire.  Fred orders ice cream at Papa Scoops. Our last night on shore, we took a stroll down to Papa Scoops, an ice cream stand that is nothing more than a tent outside a home off the main street in Spanish Wells. It had been closed all week, but apparently the coconut ice cream they serve as the flavor of the day on Saturdays is a tradition. So, we walked down to get a scoop. Most other residents drove up and placed their orders through car windows or from their golf carts.  Sunrise off Lynyard Cay Crossing to the Abacos We left the next day for a short run to Egg Island to position ourselves for the hop to the Abacos early Monday morning. Leaving at first light, we passed through Egg Island Cut easily but soon found ourselves heading into 8 foot swells. These moderated as the day progressed, as the wind gradually died. With what little wind there was just a few degrees off the bow, there was no sailing to be done (once again). It made for an easy passage into the Little Harbor cut though, and water so flat in the anchorage, we could see the bottom clearly all around us down 15 feet or more, as we anchored off Lynyard Cay.    After a night at Lynyard Cay, we motored north to Marsh Harbor. We needed to position ourselves for Pat and Fred’s company arriving on Friday. We learned from other cruisers that a number of factors had affected the boat traffic in the Abacos, with numbers down dramatically from previous years. This led to some bargains at the marinas in Marsh Harbor. We took advantage of the deals and pulled onto the dock at Mangoes on the southern shore of the harbor, next to the Moorings Charter base.    With another few days on the dock, we decided to rent a car and explore the southern peninsula of Great Abaco. Our first stop took us down a bumpy dirt road to Little Harbor, where Pete’s Pub and Gallery dominates the beach. We passed this protected harbor on our way into the cut on Monday. The bronze marine sculptures that Pete’s Gallery is famous for dotted the walkways in the harbor. We took a short trip over the dune to see the ocean, which was kicked up by the southeast winds.    From there we made our way down to Sandy Point, on the southwest tip of Great Abaco. The road ends here, where there is a small community surrounding a ferry dock that has 2 ferries a week arriving from Nassau. The locals were all gathered at The Palace, a local eatery and bar, which we couldn’t resist trying. To our dismay, the domino game was broken up so that we could be seated for lunch. But it wasn’t long before it started up at another table. Since the power went out in the middle of lunch preparation, we had longer than usual time to kill, so Fred joined the domino game, learning the nuances of this very competitive game, even slapping his tiles down with the best of them. He didn’t manage to win, but he held his own. We learned that most of the locals either work in construction or at Disney’s private island, Castaway Cay (aka Gorda Cay) some 20 miles west of Sandy Point.   On our way north, we visited 2 large housing developments being scoped out on the eastern shore of Great Abaco. Both had grand plans for beautiful homes. Schooner Bay claimed to be a more environmentally-friendly development, but appeared to be doing far more aggressive re-shaping of at least some of its landscape, carving out a harbor with an island in the middle and raising the land many feet to withstand hurricane surge. Serenity Point had its own approach, having leveled every tree within its scope to provide unencumbered views of the water. Time will tell if either has a more manageable approach (or if they actually come to be). After a quick trip to Cherokee Sound, another harbor on the east coast, we had to head back home, since time was passing quickly and we needed to get back to pick up Roger and Annie at the airport. The storms of the passing front arrived just after they landed, making us glad we had decided to pull into a dock to greet them.   The rest of our time here has been spent doing boat projects, walking the island, snorkeling on nearby Mermaid Reef, and provisioning, since this is the 3rd largest city in the Bahamas, with everything you could ask for in terms of supplies. Boat Stuff Not surprisingly, we still are dealing with the rudder leak that has plagued us for some time. While Dave tries to find a permanent solution, we are trying different things to manage it. Our biggest concern is a longer run back to the US, where it will be tiring for the person on watch to pump out the water at short intervals. Although the water will eventually find its way to the bilge (which has an automatic bilge pump), the route would be unnecessarily messy. While in Marsh Harbor, Dave found an automatic bilge pump that he installed in place of the manual one by the rudder. With a diode he found at a local electronic repair shop, he was able to wire it so that it would run automatically (testing every 2.5 minutes for water) without the alarm sounding. It would still be triggered by the float switch and could be turned on manually if desired. This should do the trick for any longer passages that turn sloppy. While on the dock at Spanish Wells, we took advantage of shore power to fully charge and then equalize the batteries. We also used time on the dock to defrost the freezer, top off the water tanks, and last, but by no means least, make lots of ice. You’ve got to set your priorities. Island Hopping We’ll be making short hops from here around the central Abacos before heading north of the Whale cut and positioning for a crossing to the US in April. We’re hoping for fewer fronts and warmer temperatures, but we’ll take what we can get. |
