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