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.

April 10-11: Warderick Cay to Staniel Cay, Staniel to Sampson Cay

"Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing, only a signal shown, and a distant voice in the darkness; So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another, only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence."  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

After too little time in the Exuma Land and Sea Park, we drop our mooring pennant and head for Staniel Cay. Our intentions: to drop Michael and Sus so that they can catch a small plane from the local landing strip back to Nassau and to hunker down for some strong winds later in the week.

I know I have complained about the eternal presence of the wind on our nose for each of the past several travel days, but not today! We set all plain sail and turn off the iron genny for a 15 mile run south to Staniel. Its a beautiful day with 10-15 knot winds and white puffy skies. We enjoy the catbird seats and the wind in our sails. The islands to windward smooth out the wave action, so we cruise along, between 6 and 7 knots with only light spray over our bow from time to time. The harnesses and our tethers are temporarily forgotten in the beauty of the day, but remembering a cocktail hour story by the skipper of the S/V Lady Hawk, we put them on as is our routine.

The last hour of our three hour run south, I trim the sails and take the boat off autopilot and Michael actually gets an hour to sail the boat to Sandy Cay where we will turn to cross the shallows to Staniel Cay. The sandbar shoals to 6 ft., but we cross without problems and enter the harbor. We contact the marina, and follow their directions onto a long pier, turning and backing up next the stern of a megayacht. In fact, we were almost completely surrounded. No wait... another sailboat pulled in after us. We were trapped! Sweltering in the megayacht canyon, we hooked up the electrical and proceeded to turn on the a/c... but no electricity to be found. "The island generator is out. The electricity will be on when its back on." The yacht adjacent to our cockpit solved the problem by turning on its genset. Unfortunately, his diesel fumes filled our cockpit as a result. Well, where are the showers? It has been a few days and we are smelling a little ripe. "Oh, we don't have showers." A laundry? "Well there's a lady in town, but its too late for her to hang it out to get dry today." Aaaah... where do I check in? "At the bar... someone gonna help you by and by."

Plan B: Sandra and I showered on the boat; Michael and Susan chose to wait till Nassau. After a while the a/c came on. Michael prepared an incredible seafood paella for our final dinner and we opened a couple of bottles of wine and celebrated our last evening together. The next morning, when Susan and Michael hopped into a golf cart for the trip to the airstrip, Sandra and I shoved off and ran a few miles back to the north to the Sampson Cay Marina. Sampson was everything that Staniel had not been, though there remained a preponderance of big motor vessels  in the marina. The windy weather was now expected Wednesday thru Thursday, so I spent some energy wondering should we stay or should we go before finally deciding that we wanted a few days to be still. Ultimately, we would spend almost a week enjoying Sampson. More on that to follow... John

April 8-9: Allan's Cay to Warderick Cay, The Exuma National Land and Sea Park

"I pray to be like the ocean, with soft currents, maybe waves at times. More and more, I want the consistency rather than the highs and the lows." Drew Barrymore

The stationary high that had provided fair weather and 15 to 20 knot winds on our bow for most of the trip was scheduled to continue till the week-end. Anchor was aweigh around 0830. Under blue skies and surrounded by post-card waters, we turned our little vessel southward.

Our next stop was to be a two day stay at Warderick Wells, in the northern mooring field at the Exuma Land and Sea Park. We had submitted a request for a mooring the day before and according to the park protocol we would learn our fate on an 0900 broadcast on the vhf. We listened as boats currently on moorings announced their intentions to stay or go and then sat hopefully as the list was read. Finally, we heard our name. Llyrical is on mooring 14, near the office and across from the whale skeleton on the beach. We cheered and continued the short run south to the park. As we turned into the Warderick bore, we came up behind another sailboat, Blue Goose, moving cautiously toward the park.

Blue Goose, learning that this was our first time in the park, gave us some valuable local information regarding entry into the narrow natural channel. We followed them through the bore and turned into the mooring field, taking full advantage of their experience. Our route in was confined to a channel approximately 60 ft wide. Approximately every 150 ft, a 40-60 ft. boat swung across the channel. Still, it was a fairly simple matter to follow the dark blue water banded by white sandy shoal, sometimes weaving past the bow of a moored boat; other times past their sterns. Michael and Sandra were stationed on the bow and with the help of the walkie talkies, we easily grabbed the pennant... twice... and got a bridle on the mooring ball and ourselves situated.

We got the dinghy down and the motor on it, checked in at the office, and were free for the rest of the day as well as the next to swim, snorkel, hike, have next-door neighbors for cocktails or just relax in one of the most beautiful places I have ever been. The entire crew had a blast.

Murphy was confined to the beaches, but she did not mind. She LOVED her thrice-daily dink rides into shore to do her business. She and I chose a long white sand beach next to a shallow creek that ran through mangroves all the way across the island at high tide. We motored close then I paddled up onto the uncovered white sandbar. Murphy celebrated our arrival by launching herself out of the dink into the shallow and ran crazily in circles in and out of the shallow water, occasionally stopping to sniff a plant or paw daintily at a rock just under the surface of the water. While I explained to her that she was not allowed to hunt the curly tailed lizards, she still thought they must be fair game. After her run, she was well tired out and when she completed her business we returned to the dink, sandy and wet, where she would just as exuberantly launch herself into the bow and wait for me to get back to deeper water to lower the motor and return to Llyrical. She took her place up on the bow as we putted along, leaning out, looking side to side and at the bottom, spotting a fish or a ray with a 6ft wingspan or just snapping at the spray until we were back aboard. Of course, Murphy should have felt right at home. There was a local ghost with the same name. John

April 7: Nassau to Allan's Cay, Exumas

"Life is an uncharted ocean. The cautious mariner must needs take Many soundings ere he conduct his barque to port in safety." Unknown

We set a leisurely departure from Nassau in order to ensure that the sun would be well overhead leaving about 0900. I radioed Nassau Harbor Control of our intentions and they approved our departure. Departure from the marina went according to experience if not our plan.

With Sandra at the wheel and the wind on our nose, we hoped to back to starboard and head stylishly out into the channel. But then we discovered that the boat next to us had dropped a dock line over our port stern line, jamming it firmly in place. By the time I wrestled with the line a while and our neighbor came out and freed it, our plan was lost. In any case, we got away from the slip... and off we went!

Today was the day that we would cross the Yellow Bank, a 6-12 foot shoal area dotted with coral heads. We selected a route to Allan's Cay, the best looking of several alternative courselines that are recommended for crossing the bank. Allan's Cay is renowned in the Exumas for its population of iguanas and a small anchorage with 360 degree protection. It serves as the first stop in the Exumas for many cruisers and we felt it would serve us well.


We departed to the east, setting a course for Porgee Rock. I watched anxiously for hazards, but other than ambiguity, there seemed to be none. The channel was wide if not well-marked. Excursion boats taking people out for a view of reefs through glass bottoms, transparent kayaks or snorkel  or dive boats helped make our route clear. Along the way, I set some waypoints up on the plotter. Note to self: I need to set up waypoints the day before we travel.

The wind was blowing briskly out of the east so sails were not an option. It was another one of those days where we motored up to the top of a 4-5 foot wave before falling bow first into the trough. With only 35 miles to travel, we proceeded on a leisurely but careful crossing of the bar. As we approached the shoal, we slowed the boat and Michael put on a harness and tether and went forward with a walkie talkie to serve as a lookout from the bow. His job was to warn of coral heads. The coral heads looked like dark voids lurking just under the beautiful aqua waters. From his position, standing behind the furled headsail, Michael would report. "200 yards at 11 o'clock". Now 150 yards at 10 o'clock." As our bow buried in the waves, spray would fly up twenty feet in the air on either side of him. "Eeeeehaaaaa, "he would yell.... "200 yards  at 1 o'clock. 100 yards dead ahead." At the wheel, I made minor course corrections to ensure that we went around or between the heads. In 45 minutes, we were through and back to deeper water.

The approach to the anchorage was fairly easy if tense for me. Two tongues of deep water with a sand bar between ran north and south between two islands. I tried the eastern channel first puttering past the beach. The crew of a small motorboat was on the beach feeding the iguanas. We had an excellent view of them as we moved up the channel. Having heard that the iguanas bite, we decided that we had seen them close enough. The north end of the channel shoaled quickly, so after touching the keel to a sandbar, I reversed and proceeded to the western channel where we anchored without further event. Michael and I put on snorkel and mask and confirmed that the anchor was well set, and I gave Murphy her first ride to shore in the dinghy. Somewhat surprisingly, she decided Michael needed help and launched herself into the water after him. Prior to this trip, Murphy has NOT been a water baby. After swimming over to him she apparently had second thoughts and turned and headed back for the dink where I hoisted her out of the water and proceeded to a small beach for her to do her business. Later, we celebrated our arrival in the Exumas with a bottle of bubbly as we watched the sun dropping down to the horizon. John

April 5-6: Chub Cay to Nassau, New Providence Island

"How inappropriate to call this planet Earth when it is quite clearly Ocean." Arthur C. Clarke
Departure from Chub Cay was routine. We were soon heading east under main and genoa. Given the wind from the northeast, we were able to point toward the west end of New Providence Island. Unfortunately, we needed to point a bit east of there to get to Nassau. So we replaced the genoa with the staysail and added the diesel at a couple thousand rpm. The use of the diesel allowed us to point a little higher than possible under sail alone. We stayed as close to the wind as we could, anticipating that the wind would gradualy clock around to the east. We moved nicely out of the Northwest Channel and across the open sweep of the Northeast Providence Channel. Despite 5-6 foot seas, this was one of our least eventful days. Llyrical beat into wind on a close reach all the way to Nassau. Lunch was another fruit and cheese in the cockpit affair. Very little food preparation had occurred in the galley underway on this trip.
Outside the harbor, we contacted Nassau Harbor Control on vhf and obtained permission to enter and proceed to a marina. They apparently wanted to make sure that other boats do not get in the way of the ginormous cruise ships that occasionally come and go from the harbor.
We passed the Atlantis Resort, crept under the twin spans of the bridge to Paradise Island and arrived at our intended marina. As we approached, I gradually became a bit concern. We were to dock on the west side of the east pier or was it the east side of the west pier? All I could see was a megayacht on the face dock leaving a narrow passage back to a narrow offset fairway with some crowded slips without finger piers. "Hmmm," quoth the captain to the first mate/radio operator, "Where is this slip, again?" So saying, he realizes the current is sweeping him toward aforesead megayacht and narrow passage.  With a certainty, that once entering, he will never extricate himself, he throws the boat in reverse gear and attempts to back into the tidal and windborne flood. Slowly his vessel responds... backing jauntily into the wind, he reverses his courser along the various marinas along the shoreline while aforesaid radio operator, mate, and did I mention admiral, got us a new reservation at the Nassau Harbor Club Marina.
As soon as we convinced the dock hand that we were in fact backing their way and would arrive any moment, we were greeted and tied in an excellent slip near a nifty neighborhood in Nassau.
Over the next 24 hours would find all the comforts of home: free water, a laundry, a grocery, a chandlery, an upscale specialty foods store, a nifty neighborhood diner for breakfast, a cool Bahamas-theme seafood restaurant overlooking the water, and a Starbucks for that early morning latte while walking Murphy. Aaah, ain't life grand! John

Bahama Impressions

"Either you decide to stay in the shallow end of the pool or you go out in the ocean."  Christopher Reeve

I've thought about this cruise for years.  John and I have talked about it for years.  I'm not sure when we began talking about it as my retirement trip but sometime long ago.  We did alot of planning.  We got our HAM licenses.  We bought the Explorer charts (reputedly, the most accurate).  We studied cruiser blogs.  We re-equipped the boat.  We read guide books. We provisioned, possibly, overprovisioned.  We set a sail plan.  But, nonetheless, I was still unprepared for this journey. 

I expected the poverty of small islands; I did not expect the mega-yachts that dominate many anchorages and marinas.  I had seen hundreds coming down the ICW so I should not have been surprised, but I was.  The contrast between their mass and most other boats is stark. 

I knew Bimini would be small and weathered but I was unprepared for the extensive and on-going development on the north coast of North Bimini.  Condos, vacation homes and deep sea fishing boats were everywhere.  This gated community sat separate and apart from the native towns.  

I was quite surprised when our friend, Michael Brenner, when diving for conch in Bimini, actually came back to the dink with four.  He subsequently extracted the conch and made a marvelous curried conch stew.  His cooking skills did not surprise me.

I expected the significant waves and wind but I did not expect the relentlessness of the Grand Bahama Bank where we anchored with no land in sight.  It was both exhilarating and terrifying.  I loved it.  Despite wave after wave that rocked us through the night, I found it amazing. 

I had been warned by too many cruisers about safety issues in Nassau to be anything other than surprised by the inviting beauty of the main channel shoreline with palms, shrubs and bright flowers. 

While snorkeling at the Exuma Land and Sea Park,  I was startled by a school of fish (were they fish?) that were about seven inches long, had a pointy end and a bulbous end with what looked liked a ruffle all around, that swam upright.  They turned perfectly clear from a deep purple when I swam closer.  I truly had never seen anything like it and later learned from my friendd, Susan Baker, our Minister of Common Sense (a story in itself), that they were Luminous Squid.

I was unprepared to have my breath taken away--as I climbed Boo Boo Hill to see numerous blowholes--and turned and looked at Llyrical sitting gently on her mooring.  How lovely she looked with her distinctive blue hull.  I felt proud and happy.

Conversely, I did not expect to be the tiny little sailboat--at forty feet, no less--amidst a village of mega-yachts, as we spent the night on Staniel Cay so Michael and Susan could take the plane to Nassau and home. 

After tasting Bahamas marinas, I was shocked by the quaint beauty of the one at Sampson Cay.  It has wonderful surrounding beaches, great grilling and picnic areas, many trails that allow for 360 degree views of all the surrounding islands. And docks that are spacious and with electricity that works.  Oh, and, yes, there are shore showers and laundry.

I knew John was an excellent sailor and watchful Captain but I did not remember his extensive knowledge of winds, waves and weather systems.  He is truly gifted at this craft.

And now I know, as we rock gently, hunkered down for incoming weather, that over the next several weeks, there will be more unexpected discoveries--some delightful, some frightening, some sad and some purely amazing.  Sandra

April 3-4: Alice Town, Bimini to Chub Cay, Berry Islands

"No one would have crossed the ocean if he could have gotten off the ship in the storm." Charles Kettering

April 3: We departed the Blue Water Marina in Alice Town on the high tide. I had been planning my departure since I arrived.  My boat handling skills aren't bad, but there are some unfavorable aspects to Llyrical's boat handling. Chiefest of these is her strong tendency while reversing with any significant breeze to rotate and back directly into it regardless of where I attempt to steer. To put it another way, when you put her in reverse her bow will blow downwind if there is even 5 or 6 knots of breeze, much less 15-20.
Now a rational person would accept this and plan accordingly. However, hope springs eternal in my breast and once again I devised a plan to depart the slip despite a strong cross wind that would craftily overcome Llyrical's baser instincts and demonstrate my complete mastery of my vessel.  So, plan 'A'... walk her out till the stern is exposed and begins to blows down; use a midship spring line to further encourage the turn for a moment and then slip the line, shift into forward and voila! we would steam out of the fairway into the channel without further ado.  The actuality (also known as plan 'B')... walk her out till the spring line locks itself around the piling and snubs the boat to the dock; free the line and fend off; back hard with the rudder turned to leeward while the stern ignores the rudder and turns to windward instead. As the boats across the fairway loom large and their owners begin to stir, throw her into forward and hard right rudder turning her bow to leeward away from the channel (why fight it?). Throw her back into reverse holding hard right rudder and pray that she will begin to move backwards in time... and voila! we steamed backwards up the fairway and out into the channel.
This was to be our longest day. In fact, it was to be a two day run with an overnight anchor in exposed water in the middle of the bank.
Once out of the channel between North and South Bimini, the course was north to North Rock light, then south-east across the Grand Bahamas Bank.  In the deep water of the first leg, we encountered fairly heavy seas (4-5 ft), but once we got up on the Bank, the waves diminished to 2-3 ft. building a little as the wind picked up in the afternoon. We ran 11 hours that day, standing one-hour watches until just at dusk, I found a patch of 14 ft water over sand and deployed the anchor and 75 ft of chain. I had been nervous about this. Now, as the light faded, and the swells built to 4 or 5 ft., I watched Llyrical's bow blow down as though it was relatively unfettered by anchor and rode. Okay, bound to dig in by and by, I thought dropping another 25 ft of chain. Finally, the anchor dug in and held and the stern gradually began to work it's way to leeward. I set the snubber and an anchor alarm and rejoined the crew for a delightful dinner.
Sandra had made a fabulous Ethiopian stew with the last of our venison and some tasty red lentils before our departure from Miami. She served it with warm naan to my delight (but Michael's dismay... he wanted injera). Following dinner, we prepared for bed. Murphy and I set up in the cockpit for anchor watch. We answered hails from occasional boats that wanted to be sure that our anchor light was not the Russell Beacon, and cat-napped throught the night.
April 4: Up with the sun and away. We hauled anchor and headed east. The morning's run was pleasant but anticlimactic. The Northwest Channel proved straightforward and easy to negotiate and we were in Chub Key by lunch-time where we refueled and rested. Chub Cay was a disappointment. Chub Cay was designed to cater to large sports fishing boats (over 40 ft), but it had failed financially and was limping along, incomplete and a little sad. I guess that's why we were allowed in. In any case, along with the unfinished clubhouse were unfinished showers. While a walk of a half mile around the marina did grant access to a grungy cinderblock building with showers and another with a laundry, the facilites did not live up to the facade nor the outrageous $4/ft slip fees. To make matters worse, Chub Cay appears to have double charged us (the equivalent of $8 per foot). On the up side, I will certainly store the memory of Sandra and I walking along the pristine beach at sunset while Murphy played in the surf. John

Biscayne Bay to Bimini

"Just as the wave cannot exist for itself, but is ever a part of the heaving surface of the ocean, so must I never live my life for itself, but always in the experience which is going on around me." Albert Schweitzer
It has been 11 days since our departure from Miami's Dinner Key Marina in the predawn hours of April Fool's day with our full complement of captain, mate, ship's dog and crew: Michael Brenner and Susan Baker. Michael and Susan left this morning from the Staniel Cay air strip in the Exumas.  We are now tied up at Sampson's Cay Marina, a few miles north of Staniel Cay.  This and the following entries will attempt to catch you up on our voyage so far:
April 1: We pulled out of the marina at 0530; We planned a slow transit across Biscayne Bay, exit through the so-called Stiltsville channel and dawn arrival at Fowey Rocks, the traditional point of departure for Bimini.
April Fools!!!!! Hard aground!!!! 50 ft outside of the marina with the ebbing tide. "Well," quoth the captain, "guess we'll go tomorrow. Got the phone number for Tow Boat US, Honey?" But as luck would have it, the cap'n's patented 'desperate squirming' tactic caused the bar to release its grip on our keel and we shot in reverse back toward the unseen, clearly marked (in the light) channel. From there we proceeded cautiously.  While the crew panned the dark horizon for nearby daymarks or distant lights, I largely ignored them and trusted the instruments. I just kept the little virtual boat thingy between the digital marker thingies on my dimmed chart plotter and hoped for the best.

So off to the Fowey Rock light after threading  our way through the Stiltsville channel just after dawn. 

As the sun rose, we ran out the genoa and proceeded to steer east. An hour later, the water temperature began to rise and we found our course over ground had been converted to east, north-east.  We knew we had found the gulf-stream. The waves built to about 3 ft and the wind 14-15 knots, but the boat and crew remained comfy as we made 7.5 kts toward North Bimini.

Our approach to North Bimini was stressful but uneventful. Stressful, because I had seen a photo on the internet of a Catalina 480 awash on the beach a few weeks before and read reports that some of the buoys marking the channel into the harbor might be missing. I had also heard that my electronic charts would be worthless. LIES!!!! As far as I could tell, ALL of the buoys were gone... but my chartplotter showed the ghostly images of the four missing buoys and the curving channel through them and gave us a close-enough idea of where to steer. Michael took on the role of honorary ship's figurehead (aka king of the world) and gave reports from the bow. Reading the water wasn't too difficult. The lighter the blue the shallower the water, but mustard or black areas indicate a coral head while less intense dark areas were generally grassy bottom. So I mostly steered for the darker lighter blue and muttered prayers. The bar had obviously drifted a bit as we had only a foot of water under the keel at the shallowest spot, but no worries. We arrived without incident at the Blue Water Marina around 1430, cleared customs around 1600 and the crew began a day of leisure before resuming our voyage east and south.  John

Heads UP!!!

"A ship is always referred to as 'she' because it costs so much to keep one in paint and powder." Chester W. Nimitz

It was Thursday; we were exhasuted; we had come through 20+ bridges, in some cases, waiting for 45 minutes for one to open.  Our lovely 6NM/hour had been shaved to 4NM/hour.  We would not make it to Ft. Lauderdale.  It was already 1700 and the staff at Lighthouse Point Marina was set to go home.  We barely made it.  Just after we tied UP, John visited the head.  I heard a deep groan.  He stepped out of the head with the toilet seat in his hand.  The plastic that had once attached it to the lid looked rotted.  Can that happen?  Looks like it did.  With a land based shower and bath only steps away, we decided to set aside the challenge of replacing the toilet seat until Friday.  After all, I had found the original owner's manual in our boat documentation and was armed with the Bemis part number: 1238A.  (Or so I thought.)

Friday morning, we explored the internet looking for the seat, using the part number, to no avail.  We found nothing even somewhat similar.  We were tied up near Vero Beach so we called the local West Marine which looked UP 1238A and, lo and behold, found one--and only one--in all of Florida at the Ft. Lauderdale store.  As luck would have it, a delivery from said store was expected over the lunch hour.  Yippee!!!  As we gathered our things to go ashore and get a taxi, we noticed that the skies had opened UP and a downpour was underway.  The universe must have a rule, we figure:  if the O'Neals need to go ashore, let it pour.  With slickers on, we were driven to the West Marine--not close.  Total cab fare for outbound and return was $45.  Nonetheless, we had our seat.  We were thrilled.  Back to boat.  Within minutes, we could see that the new seat:  1238A was about three inches shorter than our broken seat.  It would not even be possible to "make it work."  Sad, and out the cost of the seat, since in Florida, there is a state law that prohibits the return of such items.  The Captain did the only thing possible:  he duct taped the seat to the hinges and restored it to the bowl, so we could depart the next day, which we did.

On Saturday, it was only six bridges to get to Ft. Lauderdale where we entered the Atlantic for a lovely--and uneventful--sail to Miami.  We settled on Dinner Key Marina in Biscayne Bay.  Again we did some internet research on Sunday (found a Bemis seat that was a bit shorter each way but might work) and arranged for an early Monday rental car.  We got the phone numbers for Bemis customer service; for the local Home Depot, which was clearly a Bemis vendor; and for several plumbing stores in the Coconut Grove area.

Early Monday, with the heavens dropping rain in sheets, we set off to the local Enterprise.  Along the way, we contacted the local Home Depot which only sold two Bemis seats:  one too short and one too long.  We also left a message at Gratitude Yachting Center in Maryland where we originally purchased Llyrical hoping for some direction.  At Enterprise, we learned of a local chandlery which might, just might, sell toilet seats for Marine heads.  That chandlery did not but referred us to another that did.  They had a Bemis seat which sounded like it might work.  While driving there, we heard from Gratitude that they had a seat they could overnight to us.  We also heard back from the kitchen and bath sales rep at Home Depot.  He had decided to contact the manufacturer's rep for the head, with offices in Coconut Beach, and, lo and behold, they had a seat too. 

By then, we had arrived at Hopkins and Carter Marine Supplies and, indeed, their seat was in all respects identical except for the fitting that attaches the seat to the bowl.  We purchased it with a wish and a promise, returned to the boat, and were quite pleased to see it fit perfectly.  We let Gratitude and Home Depot know we did not need their seats.

I am sure if I were the Captain, I would have some clever pun that would sum up my lesson learned.  We got our seat and with good weather can depart.  UP, UP and away!  sandra

The journey...not the destination

"It is of great use to the sailor to know the length of his line, though he cannot with it fathom all the depths of the ocean."  John Locke


By this, Day Nine, of our trip, I had expected to be in the Bahamas or, at least, just about to go.  Our next weather window, if PassageWeather retains its current forecast, will be Thursday at the earliest...15 days from our departure.  That has been unexpected.  Also unexpected, was the loss of the alternator belt (magnificently repaired by the Captain); bridge after bridge over the ICW, dropping our lovely 6NM/hour to 4NM/hour and the toilet seat that sheared off from its lid.  Its replacement took five days, two cabs rides, one flase start, a rental car, an hour on the internet and several phone calls.  In the end, there were three toilet seats.  That story is worth a separate entry. 

While we were sitting at Lighthouse Point for our "rest day" last Friday, I realized that this trip is not about the destination, it is about the journey.  We may get to the Bahamas; we may not.  We may visit a few islands; we may visit many; we may visit none.  We have spent and will spend a good deal of time trying.  That journey, with its challenges; its upsets; its quiet moments; its dolphins delighting Murphy is, I think, what this is all about...not the destination.  I suspect that is what life is all about.

As I enter retirement, it seems appropriate to stop the headlong rush and consider the joys and struggles along the way.  sandra

Monday, Monday...

"Can ye fathom the ocean, dark and deep, where the mighty waves and the grandeur sweep?" Fanny Crosby
Monday, Mar. 29, Dinner Key Marina, Cocoa Beach/Miami, FL
Well, we made it to Miami! On Saturday! Here's how it went:
Day 1: Daytona Beach on ICW
Day 2: Titusville on ICW
Day 3: Rest Day - visited NASA/Cape Canaveral
Day 4: Vero Beach on ICW
Day 5: To Ft. Pierce on ICW into Atlantic. Motor sailing (Genoa) over a wallowy day with NE swells. A pod of a dozen or so dolphins kept us company for quite a while. Good thing Murphy was tethered or she would have gone swimming with them.  Much wagging of tail and heart-felt whimpers at her seagoing friends. Several were interesting and grey speckled, albino-looking. Unfortunately, the master belt (water pump/alternator) on the engine shredded. We shut the engine down so it wouldn't overheat and Sandra took the wheel and kept us moving south under the genoa. After an hour or so of scrounging below, I came up with the right combination of tools to put the spare belt on.  After retesting the belt tension several times, we gradually brought the engine rpms up to 2400 rpms and resumed our run.  I tumbled back on deck and took a bonine. Being below in the unsettled sea conditions had taken a little of the pleasure out of my successful repair (thanks Mack Boring and Larry Berlin). Finally, at 1830, we chugged into Riviera Yacht Center to spend the night and await a mechanic after briefly sticking our keel into a mud bank 15 yards off the dock. 
Day 6: Thursday, March 25 - Sandra was walking to the bathhouse when she noticed an ongoing classic boat restoration. Turns out it was the Honey Fitz, John Kennedy's presidential yacht, a beautiful wooden boat built in the 1930s. The folks at Riviera were hard at work on her restoration.
Nearby Ramsay Marine had a mechanic on site by 0930.  By 1000, we had a new belt on and a new spare for my parts bag and were able to get underway for what we thought would be an easy offset to yesterday. Interestingly,  Today, since it was windy, we would stay inside, keep our run short, and motor throught the Florida 'Gold Coast' enjoying the excess of too many mansions and megayachts. Then we discovered the challenge of South Florida bridge openings.... Arrived Lighthouse Pt. 1830. To finish an exhausting day, upon arrival, I was visiting the head. I lifted the lid and it came off in my hands.
Day 7: Make and Mend day.... i.e. rest... rainy weather
Day 8: Saturday, Mar. 27 - Off at 0900 15 miles and 8 bridges to Ft. Lauderdale! Sunny skies and 10-15 kt winds out of the NE moving to E.  1100 we decided to go Port Everglades Outlet to Biscayne Bay.  Motor sailed with genoa and main making 7+ knots, 1 mile offshore (to avoid northbound currents that would have slowed us).  Arrived Dinner Key without event, refueled, and tied up at Dinner Key Marina.  We will be here until the Brenner/Bakers arrive and a good weather window opens.  Next Thursday??????
Day8: Collapse
Day 9: RAIN!!!! and reprovisioning do not go together!
And now I'm caught up...

Day One...At Last

"The ocean is a mighty harmonist." William Wordsworth


Today--to no fanfare except our own--we departed the Camachee Cove Yacht Yard bound for the Bahamas.  Our oldest (longest term) friends, Karen and Mike Myers were aboard.  We double dated years ago in Dallas before each couple married.  They moved to Santa Fe, NM and onto Washington, DC while John and I moved to St. Louis, Philadelphia and Tallahassee.  While Karen and I studied together years ago for English Ph.D.'s  (she got hers; mine was ABD), we each took a very different career path.  Neither of us became professional academics.  I took the opportunity to consult and she ultimately became the head of the Washington office for Computer Associates.  So, the day was spent chatting about health care legislation, climate bills and financial regulations.  All four of us took our turns at the wheel, cruising down the ICW from St. Augustine to Daytona Beach.  The Myers will be with us one more day before they fly back to Washington.  When they depart on Monday, we will still have over 200 NM to go to get to the Bay of Biscayne, likely four days, if weather does not stop us along the way.  We are each getting our sea legs but boating is still a physically challenging activity.  We'll sleep well tonight.

The skys are blue.  There is a sufficient breeze.  John is playing Memories  (my favorite).  And we are drinking margarittas.  Could this get any better?  We'll see.  Sandra

The Beginning... Part two

"My ship was also in better condition than when she sailed from Boston on her long voyage. She was still as sound as a nut, and as tight as the best ship afloat. She did not leak a drop - not one drop!" -Joshua Slocum
Today is the day.  Llyrical is to be returned to the water this afternoon; we return as well.  We expect to find our little vessel 'sound as a nut' at dockside.  We will drive a rental van filled with a last load of food and other essentials.  I believe Llyrical will be well ballasted as we depart on the coming voyage.  As well as we can, we have provisioned ourselves with food and books and drinking water for the coming six weeks.  We have clothing that will keep us warm at 40 degrees or cool at 90 degrees.  We will be equipped to fiddle a tune, spear a fish, and swim in or under the deep blue sea. 
Tonight we will load the gear and get our first look at the new Single Sideband radio.  Tomorrow, we will check over the rest of the boat, pay our dues to Camachee Yacht Yard, and go to the Customs and Protections Branch office in St. Augustine to apply for the Local Boater Option (LBO) to simplify our return.
At the end of the day, tomorrow, I will head for JAX (the Jacksonville Airport) to return the rental van and to pick up Karen and Mike Myers for a few days aboard.  DEPARTURE now scheduled for SATURDAY 1200UTC (0700EST)!

Feeling Crabby...

Have you ever watched a crab on the shore crawling backward in search of the Atlantic Ocean, and missing? That's the way the mind of man operates. - H. L. Mencken
It's Monday, March 15.  We would have been in the Cape Canaveral area today if our original backup plans had worked out.  Still, the last news from the yard was positive and we have been able to book crew in for the first few days of our dash south.  Mike and Karen Myers, weary world travelers that they are, will make one more trip in 2010.  They will fly into Jacksonville spend the week-end aboard Llyrical and fly home to DC out of Orlando.  We are also planning for a stretch with Michael Brenner and Susan Baker in early April and with Christina Kachulis towards the end of April.
Otherwise, we are ensconced in Tallahassee, sort of crawling backwards towards the Atlantic, and generally missing. 
The last few days has required that we make emergency trips to the grocery for food since our previously perfectly timed departure would have coincided with running out of food.  Similarly, we are suffering underwear and other clothing shortages since all such items are neatly packed in the seabag. 
We are begrudgingly replacing our store of these necessities and wondering if we will ever go.
We keep looking for silver linings and there are a few: additional Sundays at First Presbyterian are a blessing; we found our ship's station and ham radio licenses on my bedside table (how did they get there?); we got a replacement chronometer; cold fronts seem to be gradually growing a little less significant; and Sandy has had a few days of a springtime allergy or flu which will have a chance to recede.
To some extent, we know we are marking time... and if we mark too much, the trip plan will have to be scrapped.  Perhaps, if time grows too short, we will have to spend time on Biscayne Bay and in the Florida Keys intead.  But none of that for now!  We remain indomitable!  (But we still feel a little crabby) - John

How Much is that Doggie in the Window???

The answer is a US money order for $10.  The question is:  "What must one do to get a pet (in this case Murphy) to the Bahamas?"  One contacts the Department of Agriculture in the Bahamas and completes a form that is then mailed to the DOA along with the  money order.  They process it and return an "importation permit" which must accompany the pet.  The pet also needs a "health certificate" from a US vet that attests to certain immunizations, a lack of parasites and good overall health.   The vaccinations are fairly standard and most well cared for pets would have them:  rabies, distemper, etc.  However, there is one vaccination that is  non-standard: coronavirus.  Theoretically, the vet's attestation is sufficient for entry but must be followed by a visit to a Bahamian vet within 48 hours of arrival.  The various sources are in conflict about this last rule, and I suspect the vet visit is up to the official who checks you in.  We are planning to go to a lovely marina on Bimini with its own Customs and Immigration officials. I hope that helps to avoid trekking Bimini to find a vet.

A bigger challenge will be to get Murphy to "potty" on a square of astro-turf, assuming we cannot get her to land.  She can "maintain" for up to ten hours but there will certainly be some nights when we are at anchor and the only "land" about is the square of turf.  Almost all of our friends think we are crazy to take a dog on a sea voyage.  Nonetheless, she was named Murphy for a reason.  Beside being John's grandmother's family name, it also means "sea warrior" in Gaelic.  This, we are sure, provides some sort of charm.  We'll soon see--at least we hope so.  Sandra

Weather (or Not) to Go

"When all is said and done, the weather and love are the two elements about which one can never be sure." - Alice Hoffman
With our departure delayed by by ongoing repairs, there are several days to fill but little left to accomplish before we head for Llyrical. One task that continues is an attempt to understand the characteristics of a good weather window for crossing the Florida straits from Miami to Bimini.  I have spent the last few weeks monitoring weather patterns, primarily using a website called PassageWeather,  and I am still unsure.  Now, I know what perfect conditions look like:  It is daytime.  The skies are clear with no rain in the forecast for at least 24 hours.  The wind gently builds to a steady 10-15 knots from the south, southeast maximizing boatspeed.  It would be okay if the wind were from the southwest, but the wind can have NO northerly component to it at all.

When I traveled to Bermuda, we crossed the stream with a 10-15 knot northerly wind. Short, 10-12 foot seas pounded us for the length of the crossing. At the wheel, you felt like you were driving some wild creature. The boat would gather herself, surge forward off the crest of a wave, then fall into the trough, burying her bow in the wave beyond. As water flew past the cockpit, you gripped the wheel and began to climb the next wave. Below, you had to go handhold to handhold or wedge yourself onto a leeward surface. I took a nap in the forward berth by lashing myself within the lee cloths. Every 30 seconds or so I was thrown into the air, where I hung weightless for a moment before crashing back to the bunk. This was not an experience that I want to share with Sandra.

This time of year, perfect conditions are fleeting.  Twice a week, a  new cold front presses into the Bahamas bringing heavy rain and north winds.  After a day or so, the rain clears and high pressure builds.  Gusty north winds steady and begin to clock around to the east, southeast for a day or so.  As winds clock around to the south and then the southwest they continue to build in strength.  Another day, and they are back to the northwest, portending the next cold front.

So what does an optimal weather window look like for mid-March in terms of pressure systems, precipitation, wind direction and speed? If I have to give up one of my criteria, which is least important?   Well, lack of rain is not critical to safety as long as visibility stays fairly good and will have only a minor impact on comfort.  Llyrical can also manage stronger breezes comfortably, especially if they come from astern.  However, that does make approach to a harbor more challenging.  For that matter, Llyrical could handle a gulfstream crossing with northerly winds creating a wind against current 'rage'.  However, that's not a good option for her crew.

I have another two weeks to explore this question theoretically. By then, we hope to be at anchor in Biscayne Bay looking for the 'perfect' calm. - John

'Mission Impossible' or Time to Adjust Sails...

"The pessimist complains about the wind; the optimist expects it to change; the realist adjusts the sails." - William A. Ward
Today, we accepted the inevitable.  Another cold front pushed through northern Florida; it rained all day today and will rain again tomorrow.  We just aren't going to get the bottom paint done this week.  So, next week, Camachee will complete 4 coats of epoxy barrier paint followed by a couple of coats of Interlux VC Offshore Bottom Paint that will work well for this trip as well as in northern waters.  We are hoping for a splash day of Thursday the 18.  Hopefully, we will go on board Thursday night or Friday morning.  Departure is pushed back till Saturday the 20th.  - John

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow...

"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day." - William Shakespeare
Well, we are all dressed up and no place to go.  Or maybe, more accurately, we have a place to go, but aren't yet dressed.  Yesterday's problem was the discovery of a damaged propeller shaft and bearing.  That addressed, we moved on today to two new issues... or is it three?  First, we discovered that the weather was looking a little mixed on Saturday, our newly planned departure date.  Secondly, Breaking News!  The bottom paint is in worse shape than expected.  It is going to need to be sanded more thoroughly before the paint goes back on.  More sanding = more men, more money, more time.  Given the press of circumstance, a Sunday departure looks likely.  The third issue?  Sandra's allergy attack is looking more serious.  At least I'm feeling..... ah..... ah........AH CHOOOOOO! - John

I Fought the Law and the Law Won

Cards on the table:  I have never written a blog entry before and, alas, I have been assigned a topic that no one else wanted:  dealing with Customs.  These are the people in those ugly orange boats who run down drug lords and hapless boaters.  You do not want them in your face.  To avoid that, you need to know their rules which are not so easy to discover.  So, after only three calls and attendant voice mail messages, I got a real person who answered some simple questions:  If, and I stress IF, we want to take a hand gun into the Bahamas, I understand what we have to do.  On the other hand, I cannot find the process for getting the gun back into the United States.  Imagine my surprise when I learned that form 4457, which I was directed to complete, does not provide "permission" to return with a gun, it merely identifies that you owned the gun before you departed.  What we have here is a way of avoiding duty (tax) on merchandise that was not purchased out of the country. No one provides permission to return with a gun:  permission is not necessary.  As my husband declared:  "This is the United States.  You don't need no stinking permission to bring a hand gun back from the Bahamas."  He appears to have been right.  After chatting with Officer Terry in St. Augustine, I decided we should complete forn 4457 for the gun (IF we take it), as well as, for my Tag Heuer watch, our Pentax camera and anything else that has value (perhaps even Murphy).  My next question had to do with what "arrival" to the US constitutes.  You see, you need to check in within 24 hours of "arrival" and that could mean finding your way by taxi to an airport if no Customs office was located near the water, depending on where you came in.  Apparently, "arrival" occurs when you enter US waters from international waters.  So, that led me to ask how we could apply for the "Local Boater Option," which allows boaters who live in and depart from Florida for nearby islands (the Bahamas counts), to only phone in their arrival.  No need to make ones' way to the actual Customs official.  Officer Terry will help us apply during an appointment, now set for Friday.  He carefully explained to me how to use the "yellow box" walkie talkie at the gate to get his attention.  Now onto more interesting pre-departure activities:  final provisioning; waiting for the arrival of the SAT phone; laundering our boat linens; and preparing a detailed location log of where we have hidden two months worth of food.  I have not yet been driven to drop a waterproof bag into the bilge, but I might. - Sandra