Cat Cay to Ft. Lauderdale

"There's no place like home."  Dorothy

Up before dawn, our little crew departed Cat Cay Marina and passed gently through the passage just north of the island into the Straits of Florida.  The sun rose just behind a long standing lighthouse as we sailed west of it. 

Wind speed was perfect and just from the right angle to provide over 8 knots of propullsion almost all the way across, a record for Llyrical.  Cat Cay remained in sight for about two hours before it was only us and the deep blue sea.

Just before noon, we sighted Florida and called Homeland Security with our "local boater numbers" allowung us to clear customs and immigration from the water.  How lovely! 

Just after lunch, we approached the inlet for Ft. Lauderdale.  We made our way, via a series of canels off the ICW, to one of the municipal marinas.  We would pay there for a week what it would cost us for only one night in an ICW premier marina.  We also wanted the shelter that the municipal marina brought.  Llyrical would be there for up to a week awaiting our hired Captain and passage to Chesapeake Bay where she would go into brokerage.

After tying up, we took a cab to the airport to secure the largest one-way rental vehicle possible as we would spend all of the following day packing and largely emptying our beloved boat. 

We had dinner at an off the beaten path Spanish restaurant and spent our last night aboard.  All of the next day, and a bit of the following, we emptied what amounted to a small house.  Our drive to Tallahassee, ending the adventure of a lifetime, was uneventful.  sandra

April 30 - May 2: Cat Cay

"How I wish that somewhere there existed an island for those who are wise and of goodwill In such a place even I would be an ardent patriot." Albert Einstein

The Cat Cay Club, a private island of lovely homes, a marina, an airfield, and a restaurant and shopping complex complete with a rotating doctor, existed long before gated communities; fifty years to be exact.  It had an authenticity that a similar complex on Bimini sorely lacked.  On the other hand, its marina was largely deserted and the marina dockmaster first responded, and then later, ignored our requests for assistance for over an hour and a half while we maintained position in increasingly higher winds with a badly injured Captain.  Finally, it was left to a Dutch crew on another sailboat to help us tie up.  My repeated calls on both VHF and cell phone went wanting.

By the time we got to land, I was as mad as I could ever recall being.  So mad, John feared I would punch out the dockmaster once I found him.  After all, John was in terrible pain and needed rest.  The dockmaster, once found, feared that too.  I merely resorted to yelling my concerns at the top of my lungs, not very lady like. Then, I went to land and found the Asst General Manager to complain while John took Murphy to land.  The Asst General Manager dealth well with me and provided a lovely dinner at their restaurant by way of apology.

Not completely satisfied, I also visited the General Manager the following day.  It was a shame our arrival was so distressing because, in most other respects, Cat Cay was a lovely stop.  We chatted with a private chef at the bar, had two delicious dinners ashore and shopped at the well appointd boutque.

We departed after two rest days at dawn getting ourselves off the pier and making way across the Gulf Stream home.  sandra

April 29: Mackie Shoal

"The art of life is the art of avoiding pain and he is the best pilot who steers clearest of the rocks and shoals with which it is beset."  Thomas Jefferson

What a night!!!  What a poor decision to continue past Chubb Cay.  Laterwe were reminded of that fateful evening on our southbound journey from Rock Hall, MD to St, Augustine, FL when we elected to continue past the Solomons and ended up coming into an anchorage at 10:00pm after enduring 30 KT winds for several hours.  Thank goodness for full moons and John's piloting skills.

After passing up the Chubb Cay anchorage, we hit the same 30 KT winds and 8 ft seas on the very exposed Bahama Banks.  When we finally decided to anchor, we were at a depth of 14 ft, with high winds and high seas with no land in sight.  Presumably, we were off the high speed ferry route.  John went forward and, while there, badly wrenched his knee but did set the anchor.

Then we went below to try to sleep.  John took the main salon settee and I went to the forward berth.  After being airborne a time or two as the boat bobbed up and down, I gave up and joined Murphy and all our gear in the aft berth.  It actually felt good to be cramped.  John discovered me there during the night.

At first light, we made our way to Cat Cay.  With luck, we would arrive early afternoon.  sandra

April 25-28: Shroud Cay to Paradise Island

"A fool's paradise is a wise man's hell."  Thomas Fuller


After two and a half glorious weeks in the Exumas, Llyrical turned west and began the journey home.  Crossing the Yellow Banks as a crew of two required that I hang out on the bow to relay underwater obstructions to the Captain via our two way radios.  This harowing position was held for about an hour during the 49 NM crossing.  Otherwise, the crossing was uneventful.

Given expected high winds, Llyrical made her way to Hurricane Hole Marina, a tight circle of slips carved out of the southwest edge of Paradise Island, just across the cruise ship channel from Nassau.  Paradise Island is best known for its Disneyland-like hotel, casino and mega-yacht complex.  We made our share of ice cream and basket purchases there and visited the famous aquarium which is the central feature of the hotel's principal restaurant.  Otherwise, we gave it a wide berth.

On the eastern side of the Paradise Island were two lovely outdoors gardens:  the Cloisters, a stone sructure imported from France and a sculpture garden.  We enjoyed walking to and through both. 

We also hiked over the bridge to Nassau for shopping.  We were unimpressed by the Straw Market but really impressed by the native-made batik, purchasing gifts for the girls and the grandkids.  We also spent a lovely evening at a local fine dining establishment called Sun and...

During our four day stay, we decided to contact Ed Kurowski of Gratitude Yachts about putting Llyrical in brokerage.  We agreed on a price and Ed identified a Captain who could sail her to the Chesapeake from Florida. While a difficult decision, we felt it was the right one.

After four days, we planned our departure and set sail northeast planning to anchor off Chub Cay but  eventually continued on to Mackie Shoal where John set anchor in heavy seas.   Sandra

A Few Good Books...

"But more wonderful than the lore of old men and the lore of books is the secret lore of ocean."
H. P. Lovecraft

Having sailed before and been on aboard for weeks at a time, I knew there would be alot of downtime on Llyrical:  downtime after sailing the day and downtime as great winds passed us by.  I knew I would have time to enjoy reading, one of my greatest pleasures, so I brought and read a few good books:
 
Tales of Wonder, the autobiography of Huston Smith, teacher, philosopher and author of The World's Religions. Smith had a remarkable life, growing up in the early twentieth century in a remote village in China, where his parents were missionaries.  As a college student in Missouri and later a graduate student in Illinois, he became fasinated with the many religions of the world.  He traveled the world to learn about them and was the first to teach and publish their story.  He was featured in a series of TV shows hosted by Bill Moyers introducing what he had learned to a US audience.  He was a complex man with a simple mission:  educate and inform.  I enjoyed his autobiography very much.
 
Too Big To Fail, by Andrew Ross Sorkin, the story of the fall of Lehman Brothers and its effect on the worldwide financial system.  Sorkin is a journalist and, as such, his writing style is clipped and direct:  quite effective for this tale of woe.  And what a tale is is!!!  I concluded the book certain in the knowledge of the utter complexity of global financial transactions and global financial giants; their utter arrogance; and the deep, deep involvement of governments, ours and others, in extricating citizens everywhere from the mess the financial giants made.  A gripping story.
 
The Soul of Chrisitanity by Huston Smith, was written in 2004 as a "survey" of first century Christianity.  Unlike the Smith autobiography, this one was surprisingly dogmatic and doctrinare.  I was disappointed;  my own fault for assuming a book on Christianity could be anything other.  He did spend considerable time characterizing Christianity and Christ as a religion of "love" with a message of acceptance, community and relationship.  I was glad for that.
 
The Beak of the Finch by Jonathan Weiner, is the story of Peter and Rosemary Grant's 20+ years as researchers of Darwin's finches on Daphne Major in the Galapagos Islands.  The narrative, in an almost shocking degree of satistical specification, reports on the birds of the island and their on-going evolution.  If you are not convinced of natural selection, and all its variants, before you read this book, you will after--that is, assuming you can slough through its 300 odd pages with attention to the detail. 
 
A Superior Death by Nevada Barr, a mystery located on Isle Royal National Park in Lake Superior where park ranger, Anna Pigeon, solves an underwater murder.  Our friend, Susan Baker, who had read several other Barr mysteries found it in the book exchange in Nassau.  It was quick, fun read, punctuating the more serious non-fiction I had been reading.  For all lovers of mysteries and national parks, it would be delightful! And BTW, I actually figured out whodunit!  That never happens.
 
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Mainentance by Robert M. Pirsig, a classic that was given to me in 1998 by Clyde Beers, my first Christmas as market leader of the Philadelphia office of Towers Perrin.  Clearly, I should have read it earlier. In fact, being on a motorcycle and being on a sailboat share alot in common.  For its emphasis on values alone, this is worth the read.  I should have done it sooner.
 
Stones Into Schools by Greg Mortenson, the mountain climber, turned school builder in Pakistan and Afghanistan.  Its sub-title is Promoting Peace Through Books, Not Bombs.  After reading his first book, Three Cups of Tea, I was hooked.  I truly believe education can change the world and it seems that Mr. Mortenson is living that in a remote region of the world where peace through education, is the kind of goal I could sign up for...and I may!

An Equal Music by Vikram Seth, was a brilliant story about music and musicians written by someone who is neither.  The lead character, the second violinist in a string quartet, and the love of his life, a pianist, are very intriguing characters but what hooks you in this lovely novel is the story of how music is played, especially by four players, how it is lived and how it is shared.  Now I will take on Mr. Seth's 1450 page book, A Suitable Boy, with gusto.

EasyBridge I, II, III by Edith McMullin were there books that teach the fundamentals of bridge, a game I have been trying to learn fro decades.  Ms. McMullin does a wonderful job of doing what she sets out to do and she does it with grace and good humor.  I would read one of her lessons between my other books.

********************

John also read a few good books.  Among them were:

The Swan Thieves by Elizabeth Kostova, the story of a psychiatrist/artist, who acts as a historical sleuth solving the mystery of why a prominent painter attempted to attack an impressionist canvas in a museum.  Desert Solitaire by Edward Abbey, the story of a season spent by the ranger-author in Arches and Canyonlands National Parks (which we visited last fall; the book was also recommended by our friend Susan Baker.)  Three Cups of Tea and a book on understanding weather by Chris Parker rounded out his non-fiction reads.  John also read a host of books about Orcs which we left at various book exchanges in marinas all over the Exumas.  No telling who has them now!  sandra 

April 10- 24: Sampson Cay to Shroud Cay

"You're in the scene, not just watching it anymore and the sense of presence is overwhelming."  Robert M. Pirsig

As you approach the Exuma islands, called Cays, the first thing you notice is the four shades of blue water, each signifying a different depth, from dark, dark blue to irridescent aqua.  Rising above the water are what appear to be pebbles discarded by a giant but are really a series of small islands, some inhabited, some not.  Each set of cays is more marvelous than the one before and each has a special feature or characteristic that make them distinctive despite their initial similarity of appearance.  Our schedule was purposely indefinite and we realized that we were not just viewing the scenery; we were part of the scenery.  We were in paradise...

As we entered the harbor that led to the Sampson Cay Marina, we could not believe our eyes.  The Cay was studded with many beautiful flowers and small stone cottages were set here and there.  The forward most building was clearly an office and ship's store and beside it was a small restaurant and bar.   After marinas that did not even offer shore showers, motoring into Sampson Cay Marina was akin to Shangri-La.  Not only were the marina buildings lovely, but the Cay offered white sand beaches, without current, where we could actually swim; little pavilions with comfy chairs designed for ocean gazing and completely exposed sandbars at low tide, perfect for finding lovely shells.  It had the nicest laundry and shore shower that we had seen.  At its little restaurant, we had the best meal we had eaten in the Bahamas:  Sampson lobster.  What a treat!  If we had to be in a hidey hole to avoide gale force winds, this was the one to be in.  Every day was an adventure with snorkeling, shelling and even attempted spear fishing.  We would quickly go back if offered the chance.

Cambridge Cay, one of the islands in the Exuma Land and Sea Park, where we hooked to a mooring ball was equally wonderful.  The Cay was uninhabited so we kept all activities to the boat, except for Murphy's morning and evening trips ashore and our own snorkeling. One evening we discovered a path that crossed the island and led to a marvelous beach with an imposing rock that reminded us of Arches National Park in Utah for it had an arch of its own. One morning, we took a very long dink ride to see the Sea Acquarium.  Despite strong current and high waves, we snorkeled this amazing reef with it many varities of fish and corals that defied the color pallet.  Were they purple or magenta or lavendar or burgundy? 

Next we next journed to Big Majors, famous for its caves and feral pigs who often swam out to anchored boats for a treat.  We hoped we were far enough off-shore to discourage this activity; we had no idea how Murphy would react.  Our visit to Fowl Cay was precipitated by plans for a gourmet dinner at the Royal Plantation Resort, one of two in the Sandals chain of resorts.  With a dozen other guests, we enjoyed the hilltop view while drinking tropical fruit drinks and eating conch fritters.  Dinner was a lovely snapper followed by a chocolate bundt cake with guava sauce.  We returned to Llyrical under bright stars and a crescent moon.

From Big Majors, we headed for Compass Cay, to ride out another strong wind and took up residence in their unique marina, decorated with folk art, much left from cruisers featuring their boat name or crew.  The marina did have a shower but it was not working and it had a laundry, complete with biting insects.  It was quaint throughout and even had six pet nurse sharks that cruisers could swim with; we resisted the urge.  We did walk to its beach--reputedly the most beautiful in the Bahamas for more snorkeling and spear fishing.  It was quite a hike and we were both weary the following day when we returned to Warderick Wells and a mooring ball. 

We got there just in time for a Happy Hour to celebrate Earth Day.  We dinked to the beach with our a margaritas, chips and salsa and met a number of other cruisers.  We were sad to see that the German travelers, who we had met the day before at Compass Cay did not attend the party.  We had enjoyed their company and would have liked to get to know them better. 

From Warderick Wells, we headed north to Shroud Cay where we hooked a mooring and where we took the dink through the mangrove "forest" to reach the eastern side of the Cay and its beautiful vistas of the Atlantic.  Most of the "interior" of the Cay is a wetland with both kayak and dink streams running through it.  All travelers are cautioned to proceed only at high tide to avoid being stuck and unable to get back.  The views of the Atlantic afforded by this "float" were spectacular.

Or two and a half weeks exploring the islands of the Exumas were enjoyable for many other reasons, as well:  we had no sense of time--rarely did we know the day of the week; our activities were guided by the sun and the wind; we had lots of time to read, to chat and to experience the environment.  We were able to do all this on Llyrical, a boat we both love, and with Murphy, our beloved Terrier.  It was simply a magical time.  We were privileged to experience it.  sandra

April 17-20: Sampson Cay to Cambridge Cay

"The fishes that swim--the rocks--the motion of the waves--the ships, with men in them, What stranger miracles are there?" - Walt Whitman excerpt from "Miracles" 1856

Well, we were in Sampson Island Marina for six days and it was time to go.  The plan: head to Cambridge Cay for a few days since the forecast looks like west winds. Cambridge Cay aka Little Bell's Island is back in the Land and Sea Park and has come highly recommended.

Of course, I have been worrying how to get out of the marina since we arrived 6 days ago. We were  pulled as far up the pier as we could go. It was very convenient, but I, of course, have been rehearsing our departure since we got here. On the positive side, I have had several offers of help including Bob next door on a Hatteras motor yacht who is going to take his inflatable and use it for stern and bow thrusters as required to get me out. There is a large motor yacht (Honey Bear) behind me with a 20 ft. tender tied to its side (It also has a smaller tender, but that is astern and safely out of my way). We had so hoped that they would go somewhere so we could walk our way out, but Sandra learns they are here for another week. Another large (60 ft.) sport fishing boat was tied up across the fairway with a 22 ft tender alongside until a bit ago, but it has pulled out. While that is one less vessel to avoid, I liked the wind shadow it had put up. The wind is blowing across the fairway a bit more briskly now. My instruments are reporting 15-20 knots over my starboard stern quarter. I have envisioned a future where we can't get off the dock and one where Llyrical manages to back off, but ends up merely crossing the fairway sideways.

In addition to offers of help, I've had a variety of other advice. The most recent was a fellow who offered help and then allowed that my best hope was to just put it in reverse and back as hard as I could. Sounds like a plan! So with Jamal on the dock minding the bow pulpit and Bob pushing my stern away from the dock in his dinghy, we slipped our lines and I backed at about 2800 rpm. To my surprise, we actually pulled briskly away in the right direction, the bow following begrudgingly. In amazement, I slowed the engine a bit as my stern cleared Honey Bear's tender, but the bow began to fall to leeward, so I cranked her up again and backed into the cross channel with some degree of alacrity. At this point, I knew I had it made. The wind was blowing directly up the channel, so I let Llyrical do her thing; Islowed and she gracefully backed into the wind. Her bow blew down and we were good to go. All I had to do was stop her sternway before we hit the sand bar behind us. Not a problem! Hard right rudder and some solid throttle spun the bow up and out we went through the narrow entrance. "Want to stop at the fuel dock for diesel, honey?" asked the Admiral. "Uh, we'll come back," I replied.

Cambridge Cay was only five miles away but was to be our first real test of passing through narrow shoal channels. But first, we had to fight our way through the surf along a narrow channel with a sand bore on both sides of us through a pair of small islands known as the Rocky Dundas. A sand bore is a bigger versions of a sand bar, often stretching for miles out from a relatively small island. Bores are considered alive, and they are not to be trusted. They grow, shrink, and change. But our C-map chip once again was spot on. I have heard of others with Raymarine equipment who felt that their electronic charts of the Bahamas were inaccurate. I have been very pleased with them.

After successfully exiting the Rocky Dundas channel we turned north and crossed a sound with strong waves and current and began our approach to Cambridge Cay. Sandra went to the bow to spot for rocks or coral heads and I slowly motored over a 6 ft. bar, then after following a narrow channel for a half mile threaded through another narrow 6ft. pass next to a small rocky island and entered the Cambridge Cay mooring field. We moved north as far as we could as that offered the best protection from expected west winds. The only exposure was a narrow opening to the NNE which might be exposed to swells from Exuma Sound.