Gigi's Island Days

2012-01-09 Pumpkin Key to Sampson Cay

2012-01-16T14:14:00.005-05:00

December 23, 2011 – January 16, 2012: Pumpkin Key, FL to Sampson Cay, Bahamas

12/23/2011 Coconut Grove to Pumpkin Key / Key Largo 31 nm

12/26/2011 Pumpkin Key to Key Biscayne 24 nm

12/27/2011 Moved to Dinner Key Mooring Field –

12/29-30/2011 Dinner Key to Nassau, Bahamas 180 nm

1/4/2012 Nassau Harbor Club Marina to Rose Island 7 nm

1/5/2012 Rose Island to Norman's Cay 39 nm

1/6/2012 Norman's Cay to Sampson Cay 34 nm

Total Miles to Date: 1161 nm

Upside down Christmas...Again:

The weather for crossing to the Bahamas just was not cooperating. The windows were too short for our liking or the winds too strong and the seas too big. We were in wait mode. To get away from the crazy boaters in Biscayne Bay, the crews of “Skat” and “Oconee” decided to sail down to Pumpkin Cay near Key Largo for a nice quite Christmas dinner aboard Oconee. I was to cook a turkey breast and a Vicki Skemp's flan, and Gigi (as inconceivable as that may sound) cooked a cranberry crunch, and Barb aboard Skat was to do the rest. It happened but not quite the way we had planed...but then improvise is what us boaters do best.

I don't know why but for some reason I seem destined to be upside down fixin' something on Christmas day. Last year it was Gigi's windlass and I spent 4 days upside down in the anchor locker replacing her windlass. This year, just as we were getting ready for bed on Christmas Eve the fresh water pump went belly up and the galley sink drain started leaking (at least leaking bad enough I could no longer ignore it). I had replacements for both aboard. That was the good news. The bad news was the replacement sink drain was in the second lever of storage all the way in the V-berth locker and the replacement pump was in the quarter berth in the aft locker....and for those of you that don't know my quarter berth it is not a berth at all it is (you guessed it) storage so all that shit had to come out as well.

So on Christmas morning the bedding and everything is out of the V-berth and into the main salon. Everything out of the quarter berth is in the main salon. Everything under the galley sink is out from under it and on top of the galley. The door is off the storage area under the galley sink where the access to the pump and drain are and the companion way stairs are off the engine (needed so I have enough room to get under the sink). The whole boat looks like someone dumped everything everywhere and shook it (and the someone was me). The turkey is in the oven and Old Vic is upside down under the galley sink, feet on top of the engine, butt in the galley, playing with plumbing and cussing (one has to have the vocabulary right or nothing gets done). And... Gigi is sitting in the corner in the only place with nothing on it trying to be as in conspicuous as possible so as to not be included in my discussions with the plumbing. Two hours later we had water again, the sink was no longer leaking, and the turkey was done but the boat was still a shambles. Jim and Barb came to the rescue and hosted Christmas Dinner aboard “Skat” and all was right with the world...again.

Aboard boats things work out and Christmas was what it should be: friends, good food, and running water.

The Crossing:

On the 29^th of December our chance finally came to get across the Gulf Stream to Nassau. We had waited almost 3 weeks for this opportunity. The predictions were for light North West winds and seas in the 2 to 3 foot range. We cleared Florida Channel and were at sea by 9:30 AM. Usually you do not want to go anywhere near the Stream with any wind out of the North but the seas were predicted to be small so we took the chance. As it turned out it was a good chance and a good crossing. They were wrong about the seas in the Gulf Stream, however. We saw some 10 footers in the middle of the stream but their period was about 10 seconds apart and “Oconee” and “Skat” slid gently over them like little rubber duckies on a pond. The feeling is sort of like riding an elevator up and down every 10 seconds.

We reached the Little Bahama Banks at dusk and experienced our first “green flash” at sea and one of the most spectacular sunsets I've ever seen – absolute clear horizon with deep navy blue sky blending to black set with the magenta / orange glow of the dieing sun. As the sun faded out and the last thin line of rose color blended into black and the sky came alive with stars. The brilliant planet Venus first followed by a sky dusted so full of all magnitude of stars it looked like Van Gogh had painted them. Then the disk of our universe, The Milky Way, appeared so dense with stars it is almost solid – it takes the breath away just thinking about it now. How could anyone look at a sky like that and believe we are alone in the universe? My friends you have not seen stars until you have seen them at sea without the lights of land to mask your view. A sky like that make one feel so small, infinitesimally small.

An hour or so after we hit the banks, I was below cooking supper and Gigi on watch when she called. “Vic. We have slowed down, the engine is over heating, and there is a vibration can you come up?” Immediately you start going thru the list of possibilities. Water pump going bad or clogged sea strainer? No. That would explain the over heat but not the vibration or the slow speed. Could be the shaft zinc is trying come off. Nope. That would explain the vibration but not the slow speed or the over heat. We must have pickup something on the prop. I stopped the engine hoping what ever it was would fall off. It didn't. Now all I could see was me having to go in the water to clear the prop on an inky dark night in the middle of the Banks. Shit! One more thing to try – reverse engine and see if that will kick off what is there. Three tries and with a bang shudder Oconee rid herself of what was down there. Whew!!

The rest of the trip was just a great ride on calm seas with Gigi and I doing watch and watch (3 hours on 3 hours off). By 2:30 in the afternoon Nassau Harbor Control had given Oconee permission to enter the harbor and at 3:20 we were tied up at Nassau Harbor Club and Marina with our yellow quarantine flag flying waiting Customs and Immigration to clear in country. Our friends; Clark, Dudley, and Peter; had helped us tie up and welcomed us with open arms (literally) with hugs all around. Customs showed up 4ish. We ask for a for a 180 day clearance. They gave us 90. By 4:30 the quarantine flag was doused and the courtesy flag in her proper place on the starboard spreader flag halyard - “We in Da Bahama's Mon.”

Junkanoo New Years Day...sort of:

Junkanoo is a true Bahamian “ting.” Junkanoo is really a huge parade and party sort of like New Orleans Mardi Gras, the 60's Grambling University Marching Band, and a Holly Roller Camp Meeting rolled into one. It is celebrated at different dates and times on different islands and cays. Nassau holds the king of all Junkanoos and is held on Boxing Day (Dec. 26^th) from sunset until midnight and on New Years Day from Midnight until about 10:00 in the morning...unless it falls on a Sunday and then they sort of “freelance” the date. Like I always say, “Dis Da Bahamas Mon.” Sometimes no one knows when but somehow the Bahamian's do and then it just ..is.

No one really knows what “Junkanoo” means or why it exists but the most logical answer I've heard (and therefore probably not right) is Junkanoo is a corruption of a famous African slave named "John Canoe.” These slaves were not allowed much freedom and would hide in the bush when they had the chance. While in the bush, they would dance and make music while covered in costumes that they made from various paints that they made and leaves that they found, sponges and old newspaper. This festival represented the slave's freedom from slavery. According to legend, John Canoe fought for the rights of his people to have some time for themselves and this may explain why it is celebrated late at night. The old masters gave them time off when their “time” was not needed by them.

Parades in Nassau are judged in various categories; A Category, the B Category, Individual costume, and fun groups. The A category groups in the Nassau Junkanoo include, The Valley Boys, The Music Makers, Roots, Saxons, One Family and The Prodigal Sons. In the B category groups include One Love Soldiers, Clico Colours, Fancy Dancers, Fox Hill Congos, and Conquerors for Christ. Fun groups include The Pigs, Sting and Barabbas, The Tribe, and many many more. These groups work on their costumes, floats and music all year just for Junkanoo.

G and I took a taxi downtown at 4:00 AM and elected to stand on the street with the Bahamians rather than sit in the bleachers. Man what fun!! You are there with men, women, and children all cheering on their favorites – the place vibrates and sways with music, color and rhythm all of which never stop. When groups like the Valley Boys or the Saxons get within ear shot a wave of energy sweeps up and down the street and just plain envelops you. The Valley Boys, maybe 200 strong, with man-pulled floats, dancers, outrageous colorful costumes, and a huge band is perhaps our favorite. As they approach you hear mixed in the horns, African goat skin drum rhythms, the cry from the Boys go up, “We Are?” And the crowd's response, “Vallee,Valee,Valee” wash over you and draw you in. G and I were no exception and we added our “Vallees” to the drum beat symphony.

My camera seemed to attract the best. Don't miss the photos. They don't do Junkanoo justice without the music or the magic of the crowd but go take a look anyway. I've never experienced anything like Junkanoo. Would I do this again? You bet.

Sampson Cay:

We made Sampson Cay on the 6^th and were greeted by 9 days of light winds, 80 degree weather, and warm water. I really meant to write when I got here but the Bahamas just would not let me. We have fished, snorkeled, read, visited, and enjoyed sunsets and sunrises that only the Bahamas can give. There just has not been time for writing – Dis Da Bahamas Mon.

Fairwinds & Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

2011 Palm Coast to Miami

2011-12-21T10:20:00.001-05:00

Palm Coast, Florida to Key Biscayne, Florida – 11/26/2011 to 12/17/2011:

11/26/2011: Palm Coast to Daytona, FL 27 NM

11/27/2011: Daytona to Coco Beach, FL 56 NM

11/28/2011: Coco Breach to Melborne, FL 18 NM

11/29/2011: Melborne to Vero Beach, FL 30 NM

12/04/2011: Vero Beach to Hobe Sound, FL 41 NM

12/05/2011: Hobe Sound to Lake Worth, FL 15 NM

12/12/2011: Lake Worth to Ft. Lauderdale, FL 47 NM (and 24 bridges)

12/17/2011: Ft. Lauderdale to Key Biscayne, FL 44 NM

12/20/2011: Key Biscayne to Coconut Grove, FL 03 NM

Total Miles To Date: 848 Nautical Miles

“You Are a Risin' For a Fall...”

When I was a little boy and “got too big for my britches.” My Mom would say to me “Boy,.. you are a risin' for a fall....” and that usually meant the “fall” was going to be provided by her or (god forbid) my Dad. It seems we never get too old for our ego to get a little adjustment.

Oconee and I had done real good this year. We made it thru Shallote Inlet and Lockwood Folly in North Carolina without once running aground or even coming close. Tiptoed thru the 15 miles of 7 to 6.5' water around McClellansville, South Carolina, without a hitch. Greased right thru Fields Cut at dead low tide and was spit out like a watermelon seed into Georgia's Savannah River current (and they said that could not be done) and never saw less than 7.5' of water to boot. Oconee and I transited Hell's Gate, Little Mud, and Jekylle Rivers in Georgia at mid-tide with not a problem. We easily put the Amelia River and Matanzas Inlet behind us in Florida with not even a “ooze” into a single mud bank. All the bad spots on the ICW were behind us and not a single grounding. Old Vic was getting' pretty “cocky.” He didn't know it but he had also put all his “risin'” behind him and his “fallin'” was coming up fast.

As we eased into Vero Beach's mooring field things were a mad house at the marina so I “volunteered” to raft to Bob and Penny Kingsbury on “Pretty Penny”, a 50 foot powercat on mooring ball 50 way up toward the end of the mooring field next to a small mangrove island. Oconee motored slowly up the channel next to the western border mangroves, turned thru the field of moored boats and took a course about 20 feet off their sterns parallel to the line of moored boats that “Pretty Penny” was in and ran solidly aground. Oconee backed off the shoal, picked another approach, and turned in for another try. That did not work either but this time I was hard aground in the mooring field and had just become the “cruiser entertainment for the day” as a swarm of dingys off other moored boat came to our rescue. After about 20 minutes Oconee was free again, went back to the channel off the bow of the moored boats and was soon along side “Pretty Penny” safe and sound or so I though – after all my keel was in 7 to 8 feet of water.

Next morning, Oconee's keel was still in 7' of water but her rudder was in 3.5 feet and taking the weight of both “Pretty Penny” and Oconee – not good. Bob and I put our heads together and decided to pass the mooring pennant to Oconee and he would go to another mooring and that would at least take his displacement off Oconee's rudder. As booth Bob and I walked forward and a I took the pennant Oconee slid into deep water. After moving to another mooring and diving the rudder it appears Oconee is OK and has survived another round of abuse under Vic's command.

But my “come-upins” were not yet complete by a long shot – the gods were not finished with old Vic. To jog your memory the ICW rule is “Red marks are on the right side of the boat headed South on the ICW.” The first mark after passing under Vero Beach ICW bridge is “red.” Why I do not know but at the time it seemed perfectly acceptable to take that red mark on the left hand side of Oconee. Wham! Oconee ran straight into a shoal that brought her up all standing. The ground comes up quick around here and Oconee had hit a “wall” of sand. I backed off with another dent in my ego and none in Oconee.

That would have been bad enough but Gigi was on the head at the time. I “de-throned” her in a manner she will never let me forget knocking her completely off the head and landing her in the shower. I am hoping that my “fallin'” is over for the present and I have a little “risin'” in my future. If not, I'm sure Gigi will bring up the “head” incident again....and take over my ego adjustment where the gods left off.

Bridges, More Bridges & Northern Cuba...

The ICW run from Lake Worth to Ft. Lauderdale is a sailboat's nightmare – 47 miles and 20 bridges. There's Flagler Memorial Bridge – opens on the quarter to and quarter after the hour, Royal Park Bridge – on the hour and half hour, Southern Blvd. Bridge on the quarter to and quarter after, Lake Ave. - on demand, Lantana Bridge – on hour and half hour, and blur of 16 more frustrating bridges. You get the picture.

Most bridges open on a timed schedule and a pitiful few open on “demand” (read request). Bridges don't open on “demand” by-the-way. I was taught that many years ago by the bridge tender of the Titusville Bridge while bring a boat North with my good friend Mike Yount. I called the bridge and asked if he “opened on demand?” He courteously replied, “ No captain, I don't open on “demand,” but I do open on “request.”” I replied, “May I have an opening when we get there please” (I was a quick learner in those days). He came back, “Bring it on Captain. I'll have it open when you get here.” To this day I always “request” an opening and never fail to thank the bridge tender after we pass thru...even if he was one of the few true assholes Florida has employed as bridge tenders. Most bridge tenders are quite professional.

There is a bit of skill (and luck) involved with bridges. First, because they are timed you have to time your arrival at the next bridge as close to it's opening time as possible. That means you are constantly adjusting speed to coincide with the next bridge. If you miss your time and are early you have to hold the boat in place and wait while dealing with other boats doing the same thing while all the time the bridge tender keeps reminding us “bring it up close.” It's not like a car pulled up to a stop light. For example: Imagine if you will you stop your car at a light but you keep drifting into the intersection, or the wind decides to turn it sideway, or current keeps you headed straight for the bridge, or the car beside you wants to pass and go thru the light first (he is a faster car), or the brakes don't work and you need to throw the car in reverse to keep it from running the light. ...And you have to remember to “call” the light or it will not turn “green.” If you are late for a bridge that almost guarantees you will miss the next and end up waiting half and hour to an hour for the next opening. And if the bridge for one reason or another does not open, the whole deal is shot to hell and may not get back on schedule. Now add to that the “macho Florida crazies” that have no respect for anyone except themselves and you have a day on the water filled with tension, exasperation, and a touch of anger. Now you beginning to get the picture. Bridges are a bit of an art form with a huge dollop of luck thrown in for good measure.

By the time we reached Middle River in Ft. Lauderdale we were exhausted and strung tighter than a Mark O'Connor string. That run is my least favorite part of the waterway. Gigi put it best, “Think I'll have 3 glasses of wine tonight.”

Key Biscayne:

South Florida is not the United States it is really “Cuba North.” From Ft. Lauderdale South English is a second language as is evidenced by the TV Channels. We don't have cable or satellite TV on Oconee just a simple antenna. In Frenandian we picked up 28 channels – two of which were Spanish speaking. In Ft. Lauderdale we got 36 – half of which were Spanish speaking. In Key Biscayne we get 32 channels – 6 of which speak English and 2 of those are infomercials. Here you can even watch NFL games in Spanish. Spanish language or not, Cubans one-on-one are very nice folk just don't put them behind the wheel of a car or boat. Do that and you better get out of the way or their “macho” butt will run over you.

We are currently anchored off Key Biscayne in company with our friends Jim and Barb Thompson & Missy (their ancient pup) on “Skat.” It looks like there will be little hope of making the Bahamas by Christmas so we will make Christmas here. This year we are lucky we will have our friends Jim, Barb, and Missy to share Christmas dinner with. I wish you and yours a heart warmed by the love of friends and family, good food (of course) and a healthy and fun filled New Year.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

2011 Toms Point, SC to Palm Coast, FL

2011-11-18T11:04:00.006-05:00

10/30/2011 Tom's Point Creek to 11/18/2011 – Palm Coast:

11/6/2011 Tom's Point Ck. To Beaufort, SC 40nm

11/7/2011 Beaufort To Herb River, GA 43nm

11/8/2011 Herb River to Wahoo Ck., GA 43nm

11/9/2011 Wahoo Ck to Lanier Island, GA 43nm

11/10/2011 Lanier Island to Fernandina, FL 35nm

11/13/2011 Fernandina to Pine Island, FL 42nm

11/14/2011 Pine Island to Palm Coast, FL 33nm

Total Miles to Date: 565 nautical miles

“Ten Pounds of Sugar in a Five Pound Bag”

When I moved aboard 12 years ago it was not much of a shock to my system. After all, I was moving aboard “Oconee” - a floating palace with copious storage and all the amenities. However, going from 2000 square feet of living space to a home with less space than an average walk-in closet can be a bit of an adjustment especially for a lady (and consequently for me). It was and is an adjustment even for a remarkable lady like Gigi that had already shed most of her worldly possessions to pursue the cruising life and run of with an old “Creek Curmudgeon” like Vic.

One of my all time heros, Dick Bradley, said moving aboard a boat after years as a “dirtdweller” was like tryin' to put “Ten pounds of Sugar in a Five Pound Bag.” There's a lot of truth to that statement especially when one of the ones doing the movin' is a lady.

Men are simple. Take clothes. All my clothes fit in the small hanging locker and a couple of small “stuff-in bins.” Shoes? I got 2 pair of sandals (one lives in Mule just incase I forget to put on my good pair before leaving the boat for shore) and one pair of real leather shoes (worn 3 times in the past 5 years – should leave them in the boot of the car shouldn't I?). Sox ? I got 2 pair just incase my feet get cold going down the waterway in the fall – one to wear one to wash. Two that is, if you don't count the 30 odd sox I use to keep my rum bottles from “bruising.” In truth I could get rid of half what I got and still have plenty of clothes. We want talk about “undies” - who needs 'em anyway.

Gigi on the other hand, like any good “Admiral,” has the large hanging locker with extra shelves in back, 2 drawers, and miscellaneous hidy-holes for her stuff. Truth be known, she could and would fill 3 times the locker space if she had it. But then clothes are as necessary for a lady as tools are for a man (I'll admit to having way too many...but I ain't getting rid of any either).

Shower stuff is another deal. Me? I got soap, a scrubby, and a towel. No shampoo you might ask? Nope, I figure if it's good enough to wash my ass it's good enough to wash my head. You could lift my shower bag with one finger. Gigi on the other hand, has a black bag full of stuff that must weigh 10 pounds that she lugs to the shower each and every time. What's in it and what its contents are used for are a mystery to me as I'm sure it would be to most men. But it does keep her clean and seems to keep her quite beautiful...at least in my eyes.

Then there is spare parts, food, toilet paper (lots and lots), rum (a must), beer (beer is $50 a case in the Bahamas), TV, movies, CDs, computers, paper, books (every nook and cranny has a book or two), and a bunch of stuff we just could not do without but have little if any use other than emotional and physical “comfort.”

Get the picture? Oconee is full to the brim but not just full of stuff. She is as full of life and living as she is of ships stores. Cruisers tend to fill that “five pound bag” to the bursting point with ten pounds of experiences. The next bend in the river, the next anchorage, the next destination brings new friends and unexpected living. All you gotta' do is jump in with both feet and hang on.

Just this year we have picked persimmons and made jam with Matt and Diane Zender. Been visited by pods of dolphin that seem to love to swim with Oconee ever single day. Why I don't know but this year seems to be the year of the dolphin. Seen a real 50 foot tugboat named “Timothy Too” outfitted like “Little Toot” of children's book fame complete with orange ball-cap and moveable eyes built by some crazy mariner from Nova Scotia. But then I'm being redundant, all us cruisers are just a little above “abby-normal.” But then, “Normalcy is in the eye of the beer holder,”as I like to say and way over rated.

One more thing that 5 pound bag is full of and it may be the best thing in the bag – a renewed faith in people, their simple kindness, and humanity. Because we have little in the way of transportation, other than our “feet” and a good dingy, we have to rely on the kindness and generosity of friends and perfect strangers. Everywhere we go people are willing to help us find a way out of the mess we have got ourselves into or just to the store for more beer. Our friends, Matt and Diane Zender, loaned us their dock on Toms Point Creek, ferried us everywhere, and allowed us to stay while GG when back to Raleigh for a pre-oral surgery checkup. Debbie at Palm Coast Marina found a way to get us into an already full marina so GG could return to Raleigh for her surgery. Tom & Olga Cook and Steve and Aggie Knox have taken me everywhere without the first complaint. Buck & Vicki Dawkins and Muril & Mike Doster have taken Gigi under their wing and taken care of her while she is in Raleigh for surgery. And around the next bend, someone else will step up to the plate and save our sorry ass...again.

In truth I think it gives people joy to help their fellow human beings (I know it does me). It takes a while to get used to the ideal that by letting folk help you we actually help them. Once you learn that lesson that “five pound bag” fills up fast.

Yep. Us cruisers are lucky folk we get “10 pounds of sugar in a 5 pound bag” anyway you cut it. ….And to boot, we have a sunrise with our coffee and a sunset with our “toddy” almost everyday. Man, that's living.

Fairwinds & Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

PS – Gigi is recovering nicely and should be back aboard just before Thanksgiving.

Cedar Creek to Dewees Creek: 2011

2011-10-29T12:47:00.001-04:00

Cedar Ck to Dewees Ck, South Carolina: 10/20-27/2011

10/20/2011 Cedar Ck. To Morehead City Yacht Basin: 16nm

10/21/2011 Morehead City to Mile Hammock's Bay: 37nm

10/22/2011 Mile Hammock's Bay to Wrightsville Beach: 35nm

10/24/2011 Wrightsville Beach to Southport Marina: 23nm

10/25/2011 Southport Marina to Barefoot Landing, SC: 39nm

10/26/2011 Barefoot Landing to Butler Island, Waccamaw River: 38nm

10/27/2011 Butler Island to Dewees / Long Ck: 52nm

Total Miles To Date: 248nm

Things that Go “Bump,” Skinny Water,” and Nature's Beauty....

With the rising sun, the tide began to spill over into the marsh bring life giving water to the shallow ponds of the interior. The sun meant warmth to the caldrons of life within the marsh. The sun's first rays also meant “beauty” as she painted the marsh with her colors of reds, magentas and golds. Fishermen glided thru the marsh in waders in pursuit of “red fish” as their fellow anglers enjoyed their pursuit by boat. A barge came to a complete stop in the ICW and a six pronged buck bounded up the bank and sprang thru the shallows with falls of water streaming off his hoofs. Flocks of white ibis etched against the green of the marsh settled into the dark treed islands. Trees that now sparkled like peaceful Christmas trees with “white ornaments” as the ibis settled in for a roost before returning to forage on the turn of the tide. This is a place of peace. A place for quite reflection. My place – Dewees's Creek.

We are anchored in Long Creek actually, a small tidal creek off Dewees Creek, within 15 miles of downtown Charleston. Yet it feels like a you are in complete isolation from the hustle and bustle of modern life. This is perhaps our favorite anchorage on the whole ICW and Oconee can not pass it by without at least one night here. Our plans are to stay a couple of days before moving on to Tom's Point Creek for a visit with Diane & Matt Zender, the people that sold me Oconee 14 years ago. But I guess I've gotten a little ahead of myself....

Things that go “bump” - 10/20/2011

Let's just say the trip did not have a auspicious beginning. We left Cedar Creek with the intention (and reservation at Caspers) to make Swansboro. The wind was blowing, but it was supposed to back down by late morning...it didn't. We stuck our nose out into the turning basin in Morehead City, it was blowing 25 with gusts to 30, and we were taking water over the bow. We gave Morehead City Yacht Basin a call, they had room, and we turned back. Life is good.

I made the turn into our assigned slip with 25 knots of wind behind me, hit reverse to slow the old girl down, and had her on a good line for the slip. But, I forgot one thing... that damn dingy. Mule caught the piling, turned Oconee into the floating dock with a bang, a bump, and a bit of a screech. My pretty top sides now had new “beauty marks.” Luckily Mule came off without a scratch. My ego however, was not so “unscathed.” Well I got my “screw-ups” out of the way early...I hope.

The rest of the trip down the ICW thus far has been pretty much without instance. We spent a couple of days in Wrightsville Beach - collected our Robert's Grocery chicken salad and visited with Jim McNeil and his daughter, Samantha. Then moved on down the Cape Fear to Southport on a glorious day. Then down what we consider the worst part of the waterway (or so we thought) to Barefoot Landing the next day. Lockwoods Folly Inlet and Shallotte Inlet are always shifting and shallow. Not this time we went thru at an hour before low tide and found plenty of water. Just before Barefoot landing is a section of the ICW known as the “rock pile.” It is narrow and cut out of rock. There are some sections where 2 large vessel can not pass. If you are a prudent mariner (and we are), you announce that you are entertaining the “rock pile” on the VHF radio and give other boats a chance to let you know if they have some “concerns” before you are committed. Oconee is always glad to get out of there.

From Myrtle Beach south to the Georgia line, is arguably one of the most beautiful and varied section of the water on the ICW.. and my favorite. The Waccamaw River is old, meandering, deep, tea colored and beautiful in her fall plumage. She is surrounded by cypress swamps, tall aging tupolo poplar, and water plants and wild flowers of all kinds. Navigation is easy and there are plenty of anchorages – all beautiful. It is 30 miles of welcome relief from the stress of the rest of the ICW. The Waccamaw's gift is stress free time, time to enjoy her beauty. We anchored behind Butler Island and were gifted with a fall sunset, set to the harmony of the red glow of a cypress island, the song of the redwing blackbird in the marsh, and rum to close the day.

Skinny Water – The “Low Country”

Out of the Waccamaw you enter Winyah Bay – a wide open body of water that is a commercial route to the open Atlantic. Ten miles down the Bay you take a hard right and enter the “Low Country” of South Carolina. The ICW here is as different as different can be from the Waccamaw. Oconee wound her way across tidal creeks and rivers with salt marsh as far as the eye can see on either side. I've never understood the currents here. We were pushing current all the way to the turn and I just knew we would have it “sucking” us when we left Winyah Bay...NOT. At the junction of every river or inlet I would say to G, “well we will get a little help from the current now.” But we didn't. And G would say, “Well I'll trade deep water for speed any day” (at the moment we were running in 15 feet of water). At McClellanville everything changed. We got speed and no water..and it was not low tide. Oconee ran in 7 to 9 feet with us “lookin' water” for the next 20 miles all the way to Whiteside Creek. The tide had another 1.5 to 2 foot to drop. I don't think Oconee could go thru there at low water.

We can live with the stress and constant fear of running aground because it is so beautiful and full of wildlife in the “Low Country.” There is no telling what you will see around the next bend. We have encountered bobcat, bald eagle, alligator, deer (both in marsh and swimming the ICW), and flocks of an almost infinite variety of water bird. I think my favorites are the little “kingfisher” with their outsized heads jealously guarding their section of the waterway and the “great blue herons” almost motionless in their fishing the reeds that line the banks.

Eight miles out of Charleston Harbor is Dewees Creek and that brings us back to the ending.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

PS – New photos have been posted after much pain and suffering – my computer programs are giving me fits.

...of Batteries, Babes, & Passing Shipmates - 10/19/2011

2011-10-19T10:54:00.002-04:00

...of Batteries, Babes, & Passing Shipmates - 10/19/2011

10/18/2011 Matthews Point Marina, Clubfoot Creek to Cedar Creek, NC: 9.3nm

Total for Voyage: 9.3nm

The morning broke bright, clear, warm, & (more importantly) with enough water in the creek for Oconee to get out of her slip. The old girl plowed her way to deep water, eased out into the Neuse River, we set the jib to 5 knots of wind, and breathed a sigh of relief – a perfect way to start this year's voyage. As Oconee drifted down river at a reflective 2 knots I join her reflection. My mind drifts back to the not so leisurely events of summer.

First, it was time to clean the winter grunge off Oconee, then design a new battery box and install new batteries, become a Grand Father (Malo Dillard Copelan was born to Noel and Celine in mid June), totally rebuild the steering system (referred to by me as the job from hell), visit shipmates Mac & Shirley McVean in Hollywood, FL (Miss Shirley was fighting cancer with a will beyond what most of us can imagine), install a new GPS and depth sounder, visit my new Grand Son in Iowa and hold him in my arms for the first time and heart forever, again fly to visit Mac & Miss Shirley, continue lavishing lots of effort on Oconee fixin' the things she broke in “spite” for leaving her behind last winter (and it was a significant list), and in my spare time get back together with Gigi and visit with her new grand babies (Triplets no less). Throw in a visit along the way with friend, doctors appointments, and life in general and brother you got a full summer of memories and “a pot stirred fully” with little room for much else.

Then there was Irene. For those of you that have heard all there is to hear about how bad she treated the northern states, Irene was probably the worst Eastern NC has seen and an untold story. There were homes around the Pamlico that were just plain gone, washed away, nothing left. My friend Mike Yount had water in his home and is doing his 3^rd rebuild....and he lost his beloved Moonraker – washed off her stands in Capt. Sam's Boat Yard and totaled by the insurance company. The docks at Matthews Point took significant damage for the first time. Thanks to the super human effort of Jet Matthews, the owner, they were back in one piece and ready for boats within 2 weeks. He, his dockmaster Paul, the construction crews, and volunteer efforts from friends did an amazing job. If Irene was a cat. 1 (and most believer she was not) then god help us if a Cat. 3 ever hit us.

In August our Shipmate Shirley Mac Vean gave up her fight for life. She was at peace for the first time in 2 years. Mac, here's to you old friend. No one could have done a braver, more loving job of caring for your lady. You folk that are reading this join Gigi and I in a toast to “Shipmates Past” - we all have them and miss them. Miss Shirley will remain in our heart forever.

It is funny. Up and down the water way the people we meet that are “dirt dwellers” always ask the same questions when they learn we live on a boat and are headed South. High on that list is, “How long does it take you?” My stock answer is, “about 2 months.” However, the real answer is, once the dock lines have been taken in and Oconee is free, we are already “there.”

Fairwind & Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

PS – Those of you that want a good Miss Shirley story go back and read the blog on “Bitch Wings.” Yep. She was “that” Miss Shirley.

Now for Something Different...

2011-01-31T13:47:00.010-05:00

Now For Something Different....

January 31, 2011

Nassau to Sampson Cay – 2011

1/11/2011: Nassau to Alan's Cays – 30nm

1/12/2011: Alan's Cays to Emerald Rock (Wardwick Wells) – 31nm

1/15/2011: Emerald Rock to Sampson Cay – 17nm

1/24/2011: Sampson Cay to Staniel Cay – 4nm

1/25/2011: Staniel Cay to Big Major Spot – 1nm

1/26/2011: Big Major Spot to Cambridge Cay – 15nn

1/29/2011: Cambridge Cay to Sampson Cay – 13nm

Total Miles To Date: 1095nm

We made landfall in my beloved Exumas at 2:00 PM on the 11^th of January and dropped the hook just off Alan's Cays (actually 3 small Cays). I was home. The Exumas, their varied Cays, and their people make up (to me at least) one of the best places to cruise on this old earth.

The Exuma chain of Islands run like a string of conch pearls roughly North / South. With prevailing winds out of the East anchoring is simple – just snuggle up to the West side of a Cay and drop the hook. That leaves you with and nothing but the horizon between you and some of the most beautiful sunsets this old boy has ever seen. Every sunset and every sunrise is unique to the point it will take your breath away. While at Sampson we have seen 2 “green flashes” (yes they do exist – see photos), a double rainbow over “Gigi's Island” and more beautiful sunsets than you can imagine.

The people...Oh the people. Sampson Cay, Staniel Cay, Compass Cay, Black Point Settlement folk remind me of the “Old South.” You are welcomed like the prodigal son when they see you coming. Genuine smiles of kinship and, “I knew you come back Mon” or “I make chicken souse for you tomorrow for breakfast Mon.” I feel at home here as much as I do in North Carolina.

Then there is the peace of dawn over the Cays and what the morning light does to the clouds.... Which brings me to the “something different.” I decided

to take a shot a poetry. Like it or no here it is.

Caribbean Dawn

The sun clears the cay

and paints the new day

with brilliant reds, yellows,

and splashes of blue.

As clouds come ablaze with the

hues of morning gray-green

water stirs to life

with gifts of the sun.

The sun climbs the sky and

the waters of the banks shoulder

off their muted night cloak of gray.

Slowly at first a hint of green lights

the waters that yield to vivid transparent aqua.

The dark blue, emerald rimed,

waters of the deep shout,

“You are safe here..Safe Here!”

The yellow-green of the skinny

water bathes the sight. Navigable

only by skiff, offering conch,

shelling, and other hidden treasures.

The midnight black of the coral shows

her heads so clear. “Don't tread on me,”

she says but adds, “Life here, Life here.”

Clouds shield sun's light

and lie water's faithful colors

hiding waters true nature

from the sailor sight.

Stay the course but be aware.

Magenta, gold, and bluebonnet clouds,

Coffee.. reflective coffee, and another

Caribbean dawn greets the Soul.

We are off tomorrow to deliver our school books to the All Age School at Black Point Settlement (and have pizza and visit friends). I expect Gigi will “have to” get a “do” at Ida's Laundromat and BeautyParlor before she will let us leave. Until next time.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic Copelan

PS – Then there was this one party at Sampson Cay Club for “absent shipmate” Shirley & Mac....

Ft.Lauderdale to Nassau - 1/5-6/2011

2011-01-08T09:19:00.001-05:00

The Crossing - Ft. Lauderdale to Nassau: 1/5-6/2011

1/5-6/2011 Middle River Ft. Lauderdale to Nassau - 169 nm / 28 hours.

Total Miles to Date: 981

We are in Nassau and will move over to the Exumas probably on Tuesday 11, 2011 after a mostly easy crossing. I say "mostly" because the first 6 hours were like being in a washing machine (take a look at the series of photos in the web photos album). The rest of the trip was drop dead beautiful. The banks were calm, the "Tongue of the Ocean" gave us a little sail with flat seas and we were in and tied up by 3:00 PM at Nassau Harbor Club.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic

Vero Deep Freeze 2010

2010-12-20T14:21:00.003-05:00

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Vero Beach & Lake Worth, FL 2010

12/15/2010: Vero Beach to Hobe Sound – 47 nm

12/16/2010: Hobe Sound to Lake Worth Anchorage (West Palm Beach) – 15 nm

Total Miles This Trip: 736 nm

Thanksgiving Revisited: 11/21/2010

After a hoot of an evening at the Irish pub with Gigi's cousins Tom and Bill. G and I returned to the motel to crash and store up some energy for the 550 mile trip the next day to my Brother's house in Birmingham. Not long after we settled in I got a call. It was my son Noel with probably the most unexpected news I've had in the last 10 years. I'm going to be a “Grandfather!” Noel kept saying, “but it's early Dad, it's early so don't tell everyone just yet.” After he repeated it about a dozen times, Old Vic asked, “Just how early is it Noel - months, days ,or hours?” “Aw Dad, around a month,” was his response. Am I excited? – I slept little that night.

I don't know about you folk that are already grandparents but the possibility of being one brought on a sea of unexpected emotions. I can't quite explain the feeling. It is not just excitement but it is excitement surely. Not love. But it is that. Not a deep calm like a slick calm sea. But it is that too. I've not ever experienced a feeling like it even when Noel was born.

Richard Bode in one of his books said (or words to this affect), " Being a parent is like straddling the stream of life. You can see the future on the other bank but you are not across. When you become a grandparent you step completely across that stream to the other bank and you know you will continue into the future for one more generation.” Cool thought.

Due date: July 18^th, 2011

Vero Beach Deep Freeze: A Christmas Story

We spent 12 freezing days on a mooring ball in Vero Beach rafted to Buck and Vicki Dawkins. Freezing? Maybe not by your standards but for us it was cold – nights in the upper 20s to low 30s, days in the high 40s to 50s, winds 15 to 30 mph sucking what little heat we had out of the boat. Burrrr! And we had only 2 clay flower pots turned up side down on the propane cook stove for heat (thanks for reminding me of that old sailor's trick John). Actually it worked quite well, temperatures in the cabin would stay in the low 60s until bed time. But let me tell you typing is really a chore with gloves on.

One morning the “coffee alarm” in my brain went off as usual at 7ish and we were greeted by one of those “see your breath mornings.” I rolled out of bed and slid into my smart wool socks, long johns, 2-T shirts, under armor shirt, hooded sweat shirt, thick sweat pants, jacket and... a “bunny hat” in an attempt to stay warm . Then staggered into the galley and lit the stove for coffee water (flower pot on the spare burner for heat.. of course). I retired to the “reading room” to freeze my butt off when Gigi called from the galley. “Vic I think we are out of propane in tank No.1.”

I finished my “business” (no need to put on a jacket since it was already on) and eased out the companion way to the propane locker to switch tanks. When I pulled the male pigtail out the O ring that had been on the end was missing. “Gigi,” I said, “We got a problem and if we don't get it fixed there will be no heat and no way to cook. The tank and pigtail are now going to need a trip to a“Propane Store” - either for parts or to be fixed. I can't do this aboard.

Jobs that normally take “dirt-dwellers” half an hour to complete take on different proportions to us “carless” cruisers. First, Vero has the best bus service anywhere on the East coast and it's free. The problem is buses are “public transportation” and no propane tank can be transported in “public transportation.” Taxis? Nope, same deal, “public transportation.” The tank, pigtail and I dinked into the Marina office and threw ourselves on the mercy of the court. The Dockmaster said, “Como Oil and Propane could fix it” and looked up the phone number for me. Curtis at Como Oil said, “If you can get here by noon I can get the part you may need and fix it this afternoon.” First problem solved. One of the guys at the marina said, “Hell, I'll drive you over to Como, no problem.” Second problem solved.

Como was way across town. When I got there, no Curtis. The receptionist said, he should be back in 45 minutes. I waited. When Curtis arrived he walked straight up to old Vic and said, “Get your stuff and let's go back to the shop.” Curtis was a balding 60ish kind of man with a big toothy smile and a kind countenance. He took one look at the pigtail and tank and said, “Hell, you ain't got no problem. These new tanks are set up to handle a lot of different kinds of pigtails. That one you have will work just as well with or without an O ring. Here, let's put some propane in your tank and make sure it and the pigtail don't leak.” It didn't and he finished filling my tank.

“How you gonna get that damn thing back to the Marina?” Curtis asked. “I don't know yet...,” was the best answer I had. “Throw the tank in the back of my truck and I'll take you.” “Let me run in pay them for the propane and I be right with you...and thanks!,” a I turned to go inside. “Hell they don't need that $10. I'm just sorry you had ta wait. Let's go.” Curtis said with a grin and twinkle in his eye. With that he drove me back to the dingy dock. Back at the dock Curtis coated the pigtail with pipe “goop” so it would not leak and went on his way. Needless to say I tipped him well.

You would think the story would end here but it doesn't. Back aboard “Gigi's Island” I put everything back together, leak tested the system and found a leak. When I took the pigtail off with vice-grips pliers I must have put too much pressure on one of the fitting and probably warped it. Now I really do need a new pigtail. I called Curtis back at Como and asked if he had one. “I got one and have to be back over your way this afternoon. I'll bring ya one. I'll give you a call when I leave the shop.” And you know, when he delivered it he was sorry it cost so much, “ Ten dollars is just too much for these damn things.” as he “gooped” up the new pigtail fitting. I thanked him from my heart and again, tipped well. (not that Curtis expected a tip at all. He didn't he was that kind of man.).

I tell you this story for a reason. Little problems in the life of Cruisers can take on huge proportions. We live at the mercy, good will, and grace of others. In our world the “Curtises” are the norm. Time and time again when we are faced with a problems that seem insurmountable by some miracle a “Curtis” appears. We Cruisers are lucky people our “Thanksgivings and Christmases” don't come just once a year. We are reminded of the spirit of the holidays on a regular basis whenever a “Curtis” walks into our lives.

Lake Worth:

We are currently anchored in Lake Worth (West Palm Beach) and will leave tomorrow for Hollywood to spend a Christmas with Mac and Shirley. Buck and Vicki Dawkins will join us in Ft. Lauderdale after Christmas to stage for our crossing to the Bahamas.

Merry Christmas everyone and may the new year bring you many “Curtises.”

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic

PS – Gigi's “Trips” are doing fine.

Palm Coast, Hollywood, Orlando & Birmingham 2010

2010-12-09T15:33:00.003-05:00

Fernandian Beach, FL to Vero Beach: 12/10/2010

11/9/2010: Fernandian Beach to Pine Island Anchorage – 42 nm.

11/10/2010: Pine Island to Palm Coast – 36 nm.

12/1/2010: Palm Coast to NASA Causeway Anchorage – 26nm.

12/2/2010: NASA Causeway to Melborne Bridge Anchorage – 29 nm.

12/3/2010: Melborne Bridge to Vero Beach Mooring Field – 30 nm.

Total Miles To Date: 665 nm

It's funny how “cruises” take on a life of their on - a theme if you will. This years seems to be “friends and family.”

The “Island” snaked her way through Matanzas Inlet's notorious shifting shallows and within the hour we were tied up nice and secure in Palm Coast Marina. It didn't take long for a cockpit party to develop. Gigi's cousin Tom Cook and his wife Olga showed up with a bottle of sangria and our friends Steve and Aggie Knox planted themselves in a corner of the cockpit with bread sticks. We added rum and cheese and it was time for a gam and catch up.

Steve and Aggie came bearing news. They were going to be “CLODS.” That's Cruisers, Living,

On, Dirt. They had bought a house and would no longer be liveaboard boat dwellers – a sad and glorious time one that will come to us all if we live long enough. It did not take long for Gigi, Olga, & Aggie to cloister themselves in a corner with “designs.” Olga had come with designs to paint the cowling of Gigi's new Yamaha 15 HP outboard to make it mo beautiful and less stealable. Which gave Tom and I the job of removing the Yamaha stickers on the cowling, sanding, and priming it so Olga could work her magic. God she did a beautiful job. Fellow cruisers now have “cowling” envy. I think Olga could go into business if she wanted to. A number of folk have asked us “what she charged?” Beautiful job Olga. Gigi says, “Thanks again!”

From Palm Coast we rented a car and started a life on the run. We headed south to Hollywood, Fl. to be with Mac and Shirley of last years “bitch wings” fame during her operation to remove a cancerous tumor. It did not go as expected. The surgeon decided to leave the tumor when they discovered more cancer on her liver. She is doing OK and will visit her doctors soon to see what the next step is. Keep Miss Shirley in your thoughts and prayers. You will note from the photo that not much keeps Miss Shirley down. Even in the hospital she was displaying “half bitch wings.”

Then Palm Coast to Orlando to attend Gigi's cousin Bill Hazlett's 50^th anniversary of his ordination as an Episcopal priest. Gigi treated everyone to dinner at Bill's favorite Irish pub, “Ragland Road.” It was sort of a mini-family reunion with Bill, Gigi, Tom and his wife Olga, and a friend of Bills, Robert (?) down from Vermont. The pub is an actual Irish pub brought over from Ireland and re-built just outside Disney World. The food was superb – ribs with Gennis sauce and killer bread puddin'. The entertainment was Irish to the core complete with Irish dancers and musicians. Bill knew them all and they all came by to congratulate him and meet his family and friends. He even has his own “chair” at the pub with his name on it - all and all a great evening.

We left the motel early the next day headed for an old fashioned family Thanksgiving gathering at my brother Richard's house in Birmingham. At 10:00 AM during the drive up Gigi got “THE CALL.” She was a grandmother times 3 – 2 boys with heads full of black hair and a little blond headed girl, all weighing in at a healthy almost 6 pounds apiece. Landry Hope, Gunner Christian, Dillon Brewester, and their mom, Kristen, are now home with their proud dad, Christian Perry, and are doing fine. There will be little sleep to be had in that family for few years. The “triplets” (now known as “Trips”) are in addition to 2 other children under the age of 4. “Trips?” “Trips!” Kind of appropriate don't you think? God help 'em!

On to Birmingham for a Copelan family gathering. We had not had been together as a family for Thanksgiving in probably 8 or 10 years. Richard and his wife Lynn had a house full with Lynn's daughter Kate and her new husband Tate Windham, her son Michael, Mr. Wiburn Stewart (Lynn's Dad) & his lady friend Pat Smith, Ronald (my middle brother), Noel (my son), and (of course) Gigi. It was a holiday filled with fine food (Richard & Lynn are good cooks), southern football (Auburn / Alabama of course), and the warmth of family. Add Gigi's news and this Thanksgiving will live in my memory for the rest of my life. I love my family and miss them when I'm cruising.

We returned to Palm Coast on Saturday to find our friends Bob and Penny Kingsberry on “Pretty Penny” and Buck,Vicki, and Magic (their pup) Dawkins on “Victoria Gaye.” had arrived. Bob and Penny immediately organized a second Thanksgiving dinner that could not be beat and another gam and catch up.

“Victoria Gaye” and “Gigi's Island” will travel in company for the foreseeable future. We left Palm Coast on the first of December and “froze” our way South to Vero Beach. The boats are currently in the mooring field rafted to each other with what feels like icicles hanging from the rigging. It has been in the 30s at night for almost 10 days now. Burrrrr! We are all ready for this cold spell to break. Life with no heat sucks. But we cruisers do what is required and have fun regardless of how much “mother nature” tries to block our path.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic

Beaufort, SC to Fernandina Beach,FL 2010

2010-11-07T13:26:00.001-05:00

Beaufort, SC to Fernandina Beach, FL: October, 31 to November 7, 2010

10/31/2010: Beaufort, SC to Fernandian Beach, FL – 125 NM

Weimaraner Memories:

Beaufort, South Carolina is a picture of what a small town can do right with its heritage and resources. The water front is a park with many private area to sit, think, read, or watch the world go by. I has a grassy common area that is in constant use – kids playing, concerts, weddings, or just small family picnics. While we were there the green was a Halloween party for all the kids in the area complete with movie afterward (Capser the Friendly Ghost of course) and a wedding the following day. Beaufort is a town to explore on foot. The streets are shady, Spanish mossed, and tree lined with homes that go back to the Revolution. It is speckled with little parks complete with benches that reach out to those willing to slow down and enjoy a moment of solitude.

We spent a couple of days doing just that, enjoying the solitude of Beaufort. As we strolled along I looked up on one of the columned porches that are common to Beaufort and there “guarding” the home was a Weimaraner pup. I have a soft spot in my heart for Weimaraners. As the camera came up and I looked into those inquisitive yellow green eyes I am whisked back in time.

I am no longer 65 years old. I am a young man again and 33 years old. My son, Noel is 3ish. And we own one of the gentlest, friendliest Weimaraners in the world, Christina Von Storm Cloud Copelan (Christina for short) – She farted a lot thus the “Von Storm Cloud.” It is a Fall afternoon and I have just gotten home from work. Christina is on the front step of the house sleeping in the strong evening sun. Noel greets me at the back door. I scoop him up and give him a couple of tosses in the air. He shows me his “new shoes” and how he can “kick” leaves and make “swooshing and rattling” sounds. Like most little boys he likes the crisps staccato sounds the leaves make stirred by his little kicks.

My long legs and I walk out to the mailbox about 50 feet from the house leaving Noel to follow along in my wake. I can hear Noel's little kicks as he slowly follows in my footsteps. Then I hear a low quaking growl the kind mad dogs on the run make. I turn to see my neighbors 2 German Shepherds in full flight charging Noel. My heart goes to my throat, there is no way I will be able to get to Noel before the Shepherds but I start anyway knowing it is a futile attempt.

To this day I have no idea how she did it. Christina just “appeared” between Noel and the Shepherds. My little “Gray Ghost” commenced to take names and kick Shepherd butt. She left both of them a bloody mess and howling for home. This gentle, sweet, non-aggressive dog had saved my son's life.

As the camera came down I was old again and the Weimaraner pup on the porch turned over and went back to sleep sensing I was no threat. As I said, I have a soft spot in my heart for Weimaraners.

Off Shore to Fernandina Beach, FL

The trip offshore from Beaufort, SC to Fernandina Beach is 125 NM anchor to anchor in Bell River about a quarter mile off the Fernandina waterfront. The trip usually takes between 23 & 18 hours (it took 22 hours dead even this trip). Which means it requires an over night passage. The good thing is it saves us 100 miles of winding thru Georgia and about 4 to 5 days travel time.

Compared with the ICW offshore is usually a piece of cake. Granted the boat's moment can be a bit more tiring but you don't have to concentrate ever minute of every mile and running aground is pretty much out of the question unless you really do something stupid.

We outsmarted ourself this trip. We waited one more day for the weather to settle and the seas to drop – wrong choice. The Island hauled her anchor at 1:00 PM on Halloween and headed down the Beaufort River to Port Royal Sound and the open Atlantic. By the time we reached the sea buoy at the mouth of Port Royal it became real apparent that the damn “weather guessers” had missed it ...again. Instead of being 5-10 out of the West it was 15-20 Southwest and dead in our face for the next 95 miles. We were in for a bashing - hitting 3' chop square on the pointy end and slowing our progress to less than 3 knots at times.

Boats at sea are not quiet. Everything in the lockers rattle, shake, bang, and clunk (assuming you did a good job of “de-housing” if not add “fall” to the list and whatever you forgot is on the floor). If you are in a well found boat like Gigi's Island then it complains with loud thuds as the sea does her best stop the boat but she takes it all in stride. I've been in boats that are not so well built and they ring like a steel drum being hit by a 10 pound hammer. Even in the Island sleep under these conditions are pretty much out of the question. Turned out the wind finally did drop out on my watch at about 2:00 in the morning and finally worked its way West. The last 8 hours of the trip our speed increased to 6.5 knots and we rode easy over a slow rolling sea.

Sunrise at sea is always special. I don't care how many times I see one there is something about a fiery red sun shouldered up out of a dark sea that warms the soul and thrills the heart. By 11:00 AM on November 1^st the anchor was down in Bell River, two more States (South Carolina and Georgia) were behind us, and we had our anchor's down rum in our hand. An hour later we were both down for a nap..dead tired.

Outsmarted... Again!

We had planed to spend a few pleasant days anchored in Bell River, enjoy Fernandina and then move up to Cumberland Island for a few days before heading further South. Again we outsmarted ourselves. Wednesday a cold front moved thru the area, the temperature dropped into the high 30s at night, and the winds have been above 20 knots ever since....shit. Translation, we have been stuck on board for 3 going on 4 days and no HEAT. That's the bad news.

The good news is that the complete inclosure Gigi had build for the cockpit has given us a “solarium” to spend the day in. And Bell River has provided us with some entertainment. A pod of dolphin apparently live here complete mother and calf. It is fun just to watch them feed and play in the low Autumn sun, fishing the edge of the marsh, and doing head over tail cartwheels just for the pure heck of it.

Hopefully, tomorrow the wind will drop out and we will be able to venture into town again, get a HOT shower, and a meal that I don't have to cook. Then Tuesday head South for Palm Coast where we will hold up until after Thanksgiving, visiting with friends, and celebrating special events with family.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic

PS – No news on the triplet front. G's grandbabies are still in the “box” but it can't be much longer.

Southport to Beaufort, SC - 10/29/2010

2010-10-29T10:51:00.002-04:00

Southport, NC to Beaufort, SC: October 17 – 27, 2010

10/19/2010 Southport, NC to Calabash, SC - 28 NM
10/20/2010 Calabash Creek to Myrtle Beach, SC – 10 NM
10/21/2010 Myrtle Beach, SC to Butler's Island, Waccamaw River, SC – 38 NM
10/22/2010 Butler's Island, SC to South Santee River, SC – 32 NM
10/23/2010 South Santee River, SC to Dewees Creek, SC – 31 NM
10/24/2010 Dewees Creek, SC to Charleston, SC – 13 NM
10/26/2010 Charleston, SC to Tom's Point Creek, SC – 37 NM
10/27/2010 Tom's Point Creek to Beaufort, SC – 37 NM

Smugglers...We! Southport Revisited:

I need to backup...and this story takes a bit of twist and turn and needs a little explanation so bare with me. On the way down the Cape Fear River to Southport a crown came off one of my teeth so a trip to the dentist was mandatory. With the help of the dockmaster at Southport Marina and a couple of phone calls I was set up for a late visit on Monday to put the crown back where it belonged.

While waiting (there is always a wait) for the dentist I got to talking to Karen, the medical assistant manning the desk. She asked what I “did?” Being gainfully unemployed and fully “retarded” and sensing an opportunity for a story I told her, “I was a smuggler.” She gave me a confused look and took the bait.

Seven Seas Cruising Club for years has worked a deal with school book manufactures to collect their school book over runs and last years leftovers and distribute them to cruisers headed for the Bahamas. Us cruisers quietly “sneak” them past Bahamian Customs in guise of “ships stores.” Then ferry the contraband ashore in our dinghies into the open arms of the schoolmarms in the Exumas, Raggeds, or other “Out Islands.” Bahamian Customs charges a 40% import fee for goods, schoolbooks included, so we Cruiser not only save them the cost of the books but the import fee. This year Gigi's Island will have 8 boxes of books aboard bound for Black Point Settlement in the Exumas. So I guess that technically makes Gigi and I “Smugglers.” Karen laughed and about that time the dentist was ready for Old Vic.

After the crown was put in it's proper place and I was paying the bill Karen reached behind the desk and handed me a big bag of toothbrushes with a large toothbrush that is used to teach kids how to “brush” included all tied up with a bow – must have been a couple of 100 in the bag. She smiled and said, “Now I'm a “Smuggler” too. There are a lot of good people in this world.

October 19 – 27, 2010:

“Not all that wander are lost” JRR Tolkien

We eased our way down the last North Carolina steaches of the ICW. Through Lockwood's Folly. Through Shallotte Inlet and, for the last time, through the pontoon bridge that connects Sunset Beach to the mainland. Sunset Beach bridge will be a highrise in the spring. For those of you that want to see up close and personal what some of the stimulus money is doing you need only look to the ICW. During the Bush administration the ICW and it's infrastructure had been almost totally neglected.

Lock Folly and Shallotte Inlet were dreaded by all cruisers and almost impassable. To the point that the Corp of Engineers were thinking of giving up on Shallotte and pulling the marks. Today both inlets have been dredged and you almost never pass a bridge anywhere on the whole length of the ICW from Norfolk to Miami that is not undergoing some from of maintenance.

We spent the night anchored in Calabash Creek, SC, with one state behind us... but just barely. South Carolina is my favorite area of the Waterway (once past Myrtle Beach), but Myrtle Beach was special this year. We made a short run from Calabash to Barefoot Landing Marina in North Myrtle where Buddy Bulow, friend of mine from my previous life with NC DAQ, picked us up and took us to CAPCA (Carolina's Air Pollution Control Association's semi-annual meeting). I've always wanted to stop on my way down the Waterway and “smooze” with my old work life friends and today was the day. It was even better than I had hoped. A work life may have an end point but friends are forever... Forever.

Just South of Myrtle Beach is the Waccamaw River. The Waccamaw is an old, meandering, cypress, lined river. It is a beautiful river to run at this time of year. “Gigi's Island” feels like “African Queen” as she snakes her way through the cypress and lilly pad lined water. Life here has her own rhythm - it is old, it is slow, it is comfortable. Here even the “Island” feels the difference. She eases into a rhythmic Chug-a-lug-a-lug-a, Chug-a-lug-a-lug-a – a steady, strong, and confident feel. Like the River herself.

We anchor behind Butler Island with the island on one side and old abandon rice plantations on the other. Then settle in for a spectacular sunset and moonrise. The cypress that line the island's shore light up like torches of red and brilliant orange...and then the full moon rises with the sun's Autumn colors still splashing the trees.

The Waccamaw empties into Winyah Bay, a big open bay that leads to the ICW and the start of the “low country” of South Carolina – marsh as far as the eye can see with a spider web of life giving creeks and rivers that connect it to the Atlantic. We wind our way thru creeks and man made cuts over the next 2 days and anchor in Dewees Creek just north of Charleston, SC.

Dewees Creek is my favorite anchorage on the ICW. You are surrounded by a sea of grass deep in a salt marsh. Twice daily you rise and fall with the heartbeat of the tides. Dolphin fish the shoreline for their supper. Shore birds of all species wade the shallows in their constant search for food. Fishermen pass a leisurely day taking an occasional red drum or trout. There was even a professional photographer that shows up with a ladder to photograph the marsh as it catches fire at the dieing sun as it paints the saw grass with reds, oranges, and golds. I'm reminded of a quote from “Education of Little Tree.” Little Tree's Granddad would take him up on the ridge to watch the morning break clear on their mountain. He would always quietly, reverently, and in hushed tones say to Little Tree when the sun broke the ridge “She's coming alive.” The marsh does too afire with the splendor of the Fall.

Charleston is well...Charleston. We spend a couple of days at Charleston Maritime Center in the company of fellow cruisers including the “Liberty Clipper” out of Boston whose crew were having more fun than the law should allow.

Then we headed South again. Through Wappoo Creek and Elliott's Cut. Down the Stono River. Winding our way though a series of cuts, rivers and creeks with names like Toogoodoo, Steamboat, Dawho, Ashepoo, and Coosaw. This like most of lower South Carolina is an area of the low country that is remote and beautiful.

Speaking of beautiful places, we are currently at anchor in Beaufort, SC, waiting weather for our jump off shore to Fernandina Beach, FL.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic Copelan

PS – As most of you know Gigi's daughter-in-law, Kristen, is not so patiently waiting the birth of triplets – two boys and a girl. She has been in and out of the hospital for the last few days but is currently home..waiting. Due date? Any minute.

Away At Last - Oct. 18, 2010

2010-10-18T14:02:00.004-04:00

Away: October 14 - 18, 2010

10/14/2010 Matthews Point to Cedar Ck, NC – 9.3 nm

10/15/2010 Cedar Ck to Mile Hammock's Bay, NC – 51 nm

10/16/2010 Mile Hammock's Bay to Wrightsville Beach, NC – 34 nm

10/17/2010 Wrightsville Beach to Southport, NC – 24 nm

Total Miles to Date: 118 nm

10/14/2010: Away

Between thunderstorms, we took in the dock lines on Gigi's Island at 10:57 and were officially underway...at last. After months of preparation, and months of stowing stuff in nooks and crannies, and months of moving stuff off Oconee ,and re-stowing it on the Island the boat was full to the bursting point and we were beyond ready.

I like to make the first day a short one and Cedar Creek is only 9 miles away and just the ticket. And today, it was not only the “ticket” it was a must. Just after we anchored a 30 knot squall hit dumping buckets of rain and enough wind to set our big Rocna anchor deep and secure. That anchor has never failed me and I sleep well at night because of it. After the storm the Island and her crew settled in, read, listened to a little music, and enjoyed our first “sumdowners” of the voyage.

Short days are a real treat...

10/15 – 16/2010: Cedar Ck./Mile Hammock's Bay/Wrightsville Beach:

Folk have asked me what it is like to travel down the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW)? Perhaps it is easer to tell you what it is not like. It is not like driving a car.

First, you are operating in three dimensions not two – depth is a key ingredient here. The ICW is well marked but not well maintained. Depths on the ICW are supposed to be maintained to a minimum depth of 12 feet. In this economy that almost never happens. Both Oconee and Gigi's Island draw 5.5 feet of water so the “prudent skipper” is always looking for water deep enough to float his boat and there are no clues except the depth sounder because the water is a murky brown/green. No we have not run aground yet but we have seen 6 inches under the keel. However, the trip ain't over and our time will come – some places on the ICW there is nothing for it but to wait for high tide.

Speaking of ICW marks... The aids to navigation can throw you a curve. ICW marks are unique. They are always red marks on the right hand side going South with green on the left. Normal rule for navigational marks is “Red on right coming in from sea.” For example: coming in an inlet or going up a river or creek the channel buoys are red on right and green left. So... you are calmly headed down the ICW and you come to a river or inlet. Guess what? The colors can switch and red is now on the left. Sort of like driving down the road and the rules change. Now you are supposed to drive on the left not the right side with the added benefit of being solidly aground in a NY minute. How does one tell the difference between ICW and regular marks one might ask? Little yellow squares and triangles painted on the marks...and careful attention to your charts.

All this to say it “ain't like driving a car” and you never ever can just “drive.” Attention is require 100% of the time. Thus...short days and sundowners are good. Especially the sundowners!

Houses: Mile Hammocks Bay to Carolina Beach

I've ran this section of water on the ICW from Mile Hammocks Bay to Carolina Beach many times now and am always struck by the diversity of homes on this stretch of water. If you like houses this is your section. There are stately houses with lawns and columns to match, tall houses, squat houses, thin houses, pourched houses, ones with widow's walks, old houses, new houses, ostentatious houses, gaudy houses, beachy houses, clapboarded houses, and shabby houses, green ones, brown ones, pink ones (Gigi likes pink ones), every color of the rainbow ones and yes, just plain butt ugly ones. There are even some ordinary ones but not “ordinary” (read cheap) enough for me to own.

The thing about the ICW is it is almost never a bore if you open your eyes and heart and enjoy the ride. Around every bend in the channel is something new to enjoy and see. Every year it is just a little different and a lot of fun.

We are currently in Southport, NC and will be headed out of here tomorrow morning for Calabash Ck, NC, and then on to Mrytle Beach, SC. I used to belong to CAPCA (Carolina's Air Pollution Control Association) back another life. Every year they meet once in Asheville and once in Myrtle Beach. I've always wanted to stop by on my way South and “smooze” with my old friends. This year is the year.

Fairwinds & Rum Drinks,

Vic Copelan

Snowbirds 2010

2010-09-25T11:21:00.009-04:00

Snowbirds: 9/26/2010 - Matthews Point Marina, Mitchell Creek, NC

The days are warm and the mornings break clean, clear, and cool with “smoke” drifting just above the surface of the water. There is a crispness in the air that signals fall. The hurricane season draws to a close and their Atlantic threat diminishes. Flocks of boat tail grackle swirl and spiral silhouetted in front of the full moon before going to roost for the night in the trees along the edges of Mitchell Creek. Schools of mullet fill the creek and crater the smooth dark waters chased by some unseen predator from below. And “snowbirds” like myself get itchy feet and prepare to take flight – it is almost time to go.

The bright crisp mornings stir a flurry of activity among us “island gypsies.” Ships stores go aboard by the cart load. Spare parts lists are checked and re-check. Last minute projects are tidied up - the lists grow shorter. We pore over charts as we look with longing to favorite anchorages and harbors. Slowly, quietly, sadly, we say our private goodbys to land based friends over drinks in the cockpit or dinners aboard or ashore. Slowly, quietly, joyously, our hearts turn toward the cruising friends new and old we will meet again for the first time in the months to come. Points south dominate our minds and hearts – points South, ever South. The sad glorious date of departure draws near. The docklines have not been cut but the voyage has already begun in our hearts.

This year we will be in “Gigi's Island” not my beloved “Oconee.” “Oconee” will wait patiently here at Matthews Point for my return in the spring. She has 9 months - plenty of time to plot her “revenge” for leaving her behind.

Fairwinds & Rum Drinks,

Vic Copelan

Headed Home!

2010-05-02T09:54:00.002-04:00

Headed Home!

On Monday 3, 2010, Oconee will officially start her voyage back to the good old US of A. Our plans are to leave Sampson Cay tomorrow morning and anchor off Highborne Cay for the night. Then on to Nassau on Tuesday. Fuel up and cross the banks on Wednesday night. Then ride the Gulf Stream North to Cape Canaveral. With fairwinds and a little luck we should clear in country on Friday morning.

The photos are from the Family Island Regatta at Georgetown, Exuma. There are 3 classes of boat A, B, & C with A being the largest at 28'. The rules are simple. You pass a boat you get 1 point. You hit a mark they take away 1 point. Hit another boat (or a race official) they take 2 points away. The boat with the most point at the end of 3 days of races wins.

These guys are aggressive as you will see from the posted photos. One of the photos shows just a mast sticking out of the water. The boats are so over canvased that they can and do simply drive the boat under. This particular boat's crew was too hung over to race so a pickup crew (read inexperienced and slow to react) literally drove the boat thru their own bow wake and down she went. They towed her back to the dock. Cruisers helped remove the lead, re-floated the boat, and they were back in business.

Fairwinds & Rum Drinks,

Vic

Starbound and Crazy Cubans - 3/2/2010

2010-03-02T14:56:00.003-05:00

Starbound & Crazy Cubans : March 2, 2010

Nassau: 2/27/2010

Well Oconee is back in Nassau...again. The dingy engine's kill switch went south about 2 days after we got the refrigeration up and running (there seems to be a pattern here). I replaced the kill switch and “Mule Kicker” is now running so what's gonna' break next? I'm holding my breath.

Our friends Mack and Shirley on Cats Paw are still having refrigeration problems. The compressor they had on flown into Staniel and dutifully carried to Nassau for Kenny, the refrigeration man, to install is the wrong one. It has taken 3 days to figure out what was “the right one” and get a replacement ordered and shipped to Miami. “Darvin,” a friend of Kennys, is a pilot and going to magically get it from there to here and thru Customs. Dis de Bahamas mon....

The month of February has been a month of west winds and new friends. We met a couple on a beautiful old Josh Slocum replica of the “Spray” (first solo round the world voyage). “Starbound's” keel was laid just before WWII in 1942 for the owner of Sail Magazine and completed in 1953. She has been around the world 3 times and had 2 books written about her exploits. She is now owned by a young family – Jimmy, , Scarlet - age 6, River - age 2. I unabashedly fell in love with little “Ribber.” The children are a delight. “Starbound” is planning their own circumnavigation. Take a trip over to our photo page for some pictures of “Starbound” and her crew.

Cubans at Eleven O'clock: 2/15/2010

We were jolted out of a sound sleep at around 11:00 PM by 66 courses of “My Ding-a-Ling” sung by drunk, Florida, Cubans at the top of their lungs in three part harmony all parts out of key (of course). Gigi thrashed around in bed and covered her head to block out the grating harmonies pulsating from the bar on the other side of the marina. You have no idea how bad music can be until you have heard drunk Cuban's trying to sing a Southern, Black, “Hot Nuts” song. Nobody was going to sleep thru this din.

Maybe I'd better back up to the beginning of this story... .

We had gathered as usual to celebrate sunset on the Sampson Cay Club's veranda (and future site of “tiki bar”) that looks West out over the Bahamian Banks – a perfect place to end the day with friends and rum drinks. The Marina was closed but not long after sunset our revery was broken by the appearance of two 80 foot plus power yachts. It was obvious they were going to tie up on West Dock so Gigi, Mack, Shirley, and I went down to help with lines.

They were “charters” and the worst kind of “charters.” The only people aboard that were sober were the captain and mates the rest were loud, obnoxious, Latinos , shouting, “ Put us across from each other boat so we can talk.” They had no idea of how to talk. All they knew how to do was yell. The young mate on “Rhapsody In Blue” (a misnomer for sure cause there sure as hell was no rhapsody aboard either boat) was almost in tears she was so upset by the situation. Gigi put her arms around the young lady, gave her a reassuring hug, and promised to check on her in the morning. We helped them finish securing the boats and retired to Oconee and Cats Paw at the other end of the marina for some peace and quite. I commented to Mack on the way back to the boat that, “I didn't know we drifted back to Miami?”

Back to 11:00 AM...

The Cuban serenaders have got to run out of steam in a few minutes! They've just got too! But no the braying continued. I told G, I'm gonna' fix this as I rolled out of bed, put on my red plaid flannel birches, grabbed my compressed air signaling horn, and headed for the bar. My horn and I strode up to the screened in enclosure of the bar, took aim, and fired “one prolonged blast” and “three short blast” ( the signals for leaving a marina and operating in stern propulsion). The crew in the bar frozen in stunned silence. I delivered the lecture: “Bar closed people are trying to sleep. A little respect would be nice.” Then quietly turned and went back to Oconee enjoying the thundering sounds of silence.

Well...

That's what I wanted to do but (unfortunately) not what I did. Which was close the hatch and turn on the fans for some white noise to drown the bastards out.

Story Over... NOT! - 2/17/2010:

The next day both boat loads of Cubans moved into the Marina proper, one across the dock from Oconee and Cats Paw and one on the next dock, to choruses of groans from us all.

Shit! But they can't do it two night in a row can they? Can they?

We did learn that the Florida “Cubans” were the owners and not charterers and they had new captains and crews. This should have been our first clue. Who would work for these assholes for more than one trip? After another celebration of sunset (green flash included) and a pleasant supper aboard, we settled in for a quiet evening of reading and listening to a little jazz. It was not to be quiet for long.

At about 8:00 o'clock “Rhapsody In Blue,” lit up like a whore house and started to pulsate with the scintillating latin rhythms Cuba is famous for. Women of all ages gyrated to the music amid high pitched screams of delight. The men started telling macho tales of former conquests each trying to out shout the other. What is it about Miami / Ft. Lauderdale Cubans that makes them loud, lascivious, obnoxious, self centered, and disrespectful? Soon the whole marina, Oconee & Cats Paw included, were pulsating along with them only ours “pulses” were from elevated blood pressure.

By 8:30 I had had enough. I stomped over to Rhapsody, banged on the hull, and barely manged to attract a “gentleman” over the din that appeared to be an authority figure. As politely as a pissed off southern gentleman barely in control of his “pissedoffness” could I asked, “Would you please tone it down a bit it is quiet time in the marina.” He promised he would. The lull lasted about as long as it took old Vic to walk back to the boat. I had already made up my mind that they would get air horns down the companion way at 5:30 the next morning if this shit kept up.

By 9:00 PM our women folk were really pissed off. Miss Shirley, off Cats Paw, is a 4' 11” X-school teacher that can easily drown out a room full of 10 year olds on lunch break operating at full volume. Gigi & Miss Shirley planted themselves in front of Rhapsody In Blue, assumed the “bitch wing” posture and Miss Shirley commenced to get their attention. Oh, you don't know “bitch wing?” That's hands on hips with elbows akimbo and gyrating (elbow movement is usually used to punctuate appropriate words and phrases). G and Miss Shirley (like most ladies) are bitch wing artist when they are really ticked.

Shirley explained in no uncertain terms, terms even a Spanish speaking Miami Cuban can understand, that loud partying in a quiet marina in the Exumas was not acceptable behavior and must stop and stop NOW (or words to that effect)! Gigi explained that what was acceptable behavior in Miami was not acceptable in the Exumas and perhaps Sampson Cay Club and Marina was not their kind of marina. And maybe they should search elsewhere for a marina that better suited their on personal “party down style.” Mack was more direct, “You people are the most obnoxious, inconsiderate people I've ever met.” The Ft. Lauderdale Cubans returned fire but Gigi and Miss Shirley's icy bitch winged stares won the day. Within 30 minutes the party broke up and quiet slowly reinstated itself across the marina.

You don't need an air horn when you have a “Miss Shirley” and a “Gigi” in your arsenal.

Story Over? No and Hell No! - 2/17/2010:

The next morning, Gigi was walking down the dock next to “Caspian,” the Florida Cuban boat on our dock when their bow line turned loose and her bow swung out into the current. The boat had been tied up by the captain off “Rhapsody In Blue” the previous even. We took the “cruisers entertainment” option and just watched them tie up this time. Evidently the job had been botched. Too bad so sad.

Cruisers can be entertained so easily, we watched as “Caspian's” captain ran for the helm, ripped off the cover, started the engine and swung the boat back to the dock with bow thrusters. While crew re-tied the bow line.

About an hour later more entertainment came our way. Gigi, Miss Shirley and I are standing on the dock when “Caspian” again moved away from the dock, the forward spring line comes up short and slams the boat into the dock with lines straining to the breaking point. The boat crushed a couple of 2x4s used as sacrifice material on the piling like match sticks in a vice and the dock actually moved sideways 2 feet. Then the boat slammed into reverse and did the same thing going astern. Miss Shirley ran to find Rock, the dock master, and almost ran into Caspian's captain returning from paying his bill. Shirley not so calmly informed him that his boat had almost taken out the dock. The Captain broke into a run jumped aboard and got the boat back under control.

It turned out the owners son had been on the bridge and was playing with the controls with the engine running. And yes the owner was watching – dumb ass. Some people get what they deserve. Oh, and the “Caspian” hit the dock hard enough to put a good dent in their rub rail and nice scratch in the side. One of the Cuban ladies came out in her high heels with some Simple Green and a cloth and tried to remove a nice 7 to 8 thousand dollar scratch – didn't work. See I told you cruisers were easily entertained.

An hour later Caspian pulled away from the dock with Latin rhythms blaring on the stereo and all the “ladies” aboard swaying to the tunes while giving Gigi & Miss Shirley inappropriate gestures. Gigi responded with some “East Philly” hand jive of her own that a good southern boy is just too gentlemanly to ever understand. Gone and good riddance!

“Rhapsody In Blue,” not to be out done, left a few minutes later with their dingy hanging in the air, swinging like a pendulum, and not secured in chocks and their almost water level engine room doors open. With West winds at 25ks they would have following seas and a good chance of taking one over the stern, thru the doors, and down into the engine room. We gave the captain a call on the VHF and told him his engine room doors were open. His response, “ No problem, she will do 45 knots.” I can just see him coming down off plane and the engine room filling from his own wake. More power to him.

If these west winds will just let up a little Oconee will be headed back for our beloved upper Exumas. Richard and Lynn, my brother and his wife, will be joining us in mid-March for a week of R&R cruising style. The freezer is stocked with lobster and conch and we just restocked the rum locker. I see rum punches and sunsets in store for Richard and Lynn. G and I are really looking forward to their visit.

'Till next time.

Fairwinds & Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

PS – Mack and Shirley's compressor has been supposed to be delivered to the marina at 2:00 PM for the last 4 days. Is de Bahamas Mon.

Northern Exumas - Feb 7, 2010

2010-02-07T09:47:00.003-05:00

Northern Exumas - February 7, 2010:

Oconee and crew have spent the last month getting to know the Compass Cay to Black Point area of the Exumas. Last year we sort of did a quick survey of the area (read got in too big a hurry) and moved on down to Georgetown. This year we are stayin' put and trying to “acquire” a little “local knowledge.”

This area has what G and I really enjoy – nice folk, gin clear water, an infinite number of places to swim and snorkel, and places to hold up in a westerly blow. In short we have found a home away from home. Our current plans are to stay in this area until late March and then go “walkabout” again – Georgetown, Long Island, Cat Island and Eleuthera.

Compass Cay – 1/1,2,3/2010: Sharks and the “Inside / Outside Family”

Oconee threaded her way thru a 2 mile tongue of blue water surrounded by yellow sand shallows of the banks to hide from a westerly blow at Tucker Rolle's Compass Cay Marina. The island is gorgeous with well kept trails decorated with cruiser's art and beaches that provide miles of beach-combing or just a quite place to sit and read a book. To Oconee being in Compass Cay Marina was like floating in an aquarium. There are small reefs ever where well populated with fish of all kind (Tucker allows no fishing in the marina). There is even a school of bone fish that consider the Marina home.

Tucker is famous for his pet sharks. The dingy dock at low tide is underwater and the sharks have learned to sit on top of the dock and allow folk to “pet” them. Not to worry, they are nurse sharks and relatively harmless unless you do something stupid like pull their tail.

The other thing Tucker is famous for is his large family. Tucker Rolle is a handsome friendly black Bahamian in his early 60s. Tucker has 33 known children. There is hardly an island you go to that someone doesn't say, “I'm Tucker's son or daughter.” He is a remarkable man.

Perhaps I should explain a little about the Bahamian family. Bahamian men have what they call their “inside family and outside family.” The inside family are the children of their legal wife and the outside family are well...outside that relationship. Many times the outside and inside families live side by side and the mothers and father nurture both.

If you ask a Bahamian man if women are provided the same “flexibility” in their relationships he will emphaticly say, “of course not.” But ask a Bahamian woman and she is likely to laugh and say, “Well not all those inside chillen' is inside chillen.”

Black Point 1/12,13/2010:

It was laundry time and that means Black Point Settlement. Ida has the cleanest coin operated laundry in the islands..not-to-mention is an accomplished beautician. Gigi (and I) think she is the best with her hair...and it was “hair cuttin' time” also. As we ambled up the street from the public dock luggin' our laundry toward Ida's the Black Point Police pulled up, rolled down his window, and said, “Hop in I'll take you up to Ida's.” Where else in the world will the Police give you a ride to the Laundry?

The minute G walked in the door at the laundromat Ida gave a little squeal, ran over and gave Gigi a big hug. She pointed to the wall where she and G's picture we gave her last year was still posted for all to see and said, “I knew you would be coming back.”

Black Point is a special community where you can get a great pizza, see traditional Bahamian sloops being built, and (of course) get the best coconut and cinnamon raisin bread in the Bahamas. Loraine's Mom at Loraine's Cafe makes traditional Bahamian bread to die for at only $5.00. The only thing I know that is better is French toast made from her bread. Mmmmmm! Good!

What really makes Black Point special to us is the kids. They are well behaved and friendly. It is always, “Good morning sir. Good afternoon mam. What you do here? Do you want to see my bike?” Walk by the school on your stroll about the community any day of the week and you hear no noise while the classes in session. Knock on the door and you will be invited in and greeted by teachers and students alike with a warm, “Welcome to our school,” said with pride.

It is a place where cruisers are encouraged to “volunteer.” The day we were there there was a lady from Utah helping a group of kids in rapped attention with their reading skills. I could not help but think how much our teachers back in the US would love to teach in an environment where, well...they could teach.

We love Black Point Settlement.

Sampson Cay – 1/9/2010: Gypsies In the Palace...:

Kathy & Mike are the managers of Sampson Cay Club and Marina. Part of the deal is that they have 2 weeks off island every 5 weeks. That leaves the Bahamian's in charge. As the Contender pulled out to take them to Staniel Cay and their plane Gigi's parting words drifted over the water like an omen of things to come, “Remember Jimmy Buffett's song, Gypsies In the Palace...” (If you don't remember the song now would be a good time to dig it out and refresh the little “gray cells.”)

One day later all us cruisers were invited to attend Miss Cherry's 50th birthday party. It was to be a throw down for sure. By afternoon Bahamian's started showing up by the boat load. G and our friends off “Cat's Paws” showed up early to help them get ready.

It wasn't long before both Shirley & G had been roped into being the bartenders for the night and the party was in full swing complete with free food and free drinks. Miss Cherry had obviously spared no expense to celibate her 50th. With “Gypsies In the Palace” ricocheting around my brain cruisers and Bahamians alike partied down. There was even one guy there that looked like Johnny Depp out of “Pirates of the Caribbean”- hell he may have been Johnny Depp of that matter. He does own an island just North of Sampson Cay. I even think I saw “Snake.”

Sampson Cay – 1/20/2010: Food & Bill Gates:

“Food” (a name not...something to eat) is one of the Bahamian managers for Sampson Cay Club and Marina. Over time G and I have gotten to know him and his 5 year old boy, Ashton. Ashton is a bundle of energy and very smart. One day I was talking to Food and casually commented to him that he needed to be saving his coins to send Ashton to college when he graduated from high school. Food grinned and with a shy glance at the floor stated, “Ashton already had a full scholarship to a school of his choice in Florida.” (No this is not where Bill Gates comes in.) It seems one of the mega-yacht owner had been so taken with Ashton they gave him a full ride to college.

Sampson Cay attracts a large variety of mega-yachts and Food knows them all. He has met the great and near great including: Louis Vittion and Johnny Depp. He and Johnny are friends and party together. Here is where
Bill Gates comes in. A few years back Food was working at Indigo Cay, a private island just North of the Land Sea Park. Bill rented the island for a week at $25,000 per day so he could read a book in peace. Bill was sitting on the beach when Food walked by and Bill asked him if he would mind sitting and talking for a few minutes. Food said Bill is just a nice laid back man that wants desperately to be “normal.” And Bill said as much to Food. Food, in his quite shy way responded, “Bill, a person with one seventh of the worlds income gave up being normal a long time ago. It ain't never goina' be mon.” Truer world have never been spoken. It ain't never goina' be.

Cruising with George & Becky 1/24 – 2/1/2010:

We had been looking forward to George & Becky Shennan's visit for over a month. Gigi had planned to try and give them a true “cruising” experience, but we didn't know how “true” until 2 days before they were to arrive. This trip has been a series of fixing stuff that breaks this time it was major – the refrigeration went belly up. Oh well there is always ice, just like the old days. So they got to see the good, bad, and the typical.

We were lucky with weather, and were able to get in a trip to Black Point, the Pig Beach at Big Major Spot, a pot luck or two, a couple of good sails, conching, and a fantastic snorkel of Thunderball Grotto. Plus G and I got to try out our new underwater camera – a $300 Canon D10 point and shoot. As you will see from the photos it has already been worth the money.

Thunderball Grotto is located just off Staniel Cay. It is a domed iron rock island that is hollow (you can swim right thru the middle of the island) and it is rimmed with a beautiful coral reef and a huge fish population. Thunderball is where the underwater scenes from the Sean Connery, 007 movie of the same name were filmed.

When you slip over the side of the dingy one is immediately engulfed in a school of sargent major fish. They will come right up to your mask and look in as curious about you as you are them. You push your way into the current under a narrow ledge and into the grotto. Thunderball grotto has a feeling of “peace” almost like an underwater cathedral and is lit by stain glass like, holes in the top of the island. As you push your way into the blue water on the other side of the island and the current grabs you and you are swept back around the island to the point you started, past gardens of healthy coral of all variety, and past a huge variety of tropical fish. Take a look at the photos. Both G and I are astounded at what that little camera can do.

We really enjoyed George & Becky's visit. It had been way too long since I had spent time with them and it was good to renew our friendship.

Until next time.

Fairwinds & Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

PS – The refrigeration is still not fixed. We are waiting on Kenny, the refrigeration man from Nassau, – maybe tomorrow (That's a Bahamian “tomorrow” that could mean anything from 1 day to weeks).

Sampson & Saniel Cays 2010

2010-01-05T16:06:00.003-05:00

Sampson Cay / Big Majors Spot / Staniel Cay: 1/3/2010

12/29/2009: Sampson Cay to Big Major Spot – 4.7 nm.
1/1/2010: Big Major Spot to Compass Cay – 11.6nm.

A Sampson Christmas...

Christmas Day was beautiful with light winds and warm temperatures. It was a perfect day to snorkel the reefs in Pipe Creek between Rat and Mice Cays. Mule just flew over the aqua and deeper blue waters around Sampson and threaded her way thru strong currents in the cut between Sampson and Over-Younder Cays. “Over-Younder?” sort of has an “Abbot and Costelo” routine sound about it doesn't it. Where you goin'? Over-Younder... No but where you goin'? I told you, Over-Younder.

We anchored Mule off the end of Mice in pure white sand in about 3' of water, donned our mask and fins, and slid into the clearest water I've ever seen and started a slow swim following the reefs on the West side of Mice. There were fish of all variety – bright yellow damsel, every variety and color of angel fish some the size of dinner plates, gobi, trigger, bright blue tang. And the coral would just take your breath away. The interesting thing was there was lots of new coral epically bits and pieces of perfect brain coral poking up through the white sand bottom.

The mangrove underwater have finger like root that disappear in the pure white sand. Schools of snapper and striped grunt hang out among them hiding from predators. Predators like barracuda that already know where their next meal will come from.

Then we crossed over to the East shore of Rat Cay and swam the edge looking for conch. Floating with the tide over deeper bluer water live with coral and fish. For the second time this year we saw reef squid – big eyes with their tentacles pointing toward us in a conical shape.

Within 30 minutes we had our limit of conch and were preparing Mule for the trip back to Oconee. But Pipe Creek was not through with it's “ magical Christmas gifts” for us. As we squared Mule away after our swim we caught movement in the deeper blue water. It was a pair of spotted eagle rays flying majestically along – almost like a ballet. One was over 10' across, wing tip to wing tip. They took no notice of us and we followed wrapped in awe and our own thoughts. It had been as perfect a day both on and under the water as I've ever experienced.

On the ride back to Oconee I kept trying to think of ways to describe the colors and beauty we had just experienced. All my mind would do was just “stutter.”

Two days later Pipe Creek gave us another kind of experience. It was a predator kind of day. Again we swam the edges of Mice. Around the first bit of coral on the back side I just noticed a lion fish. Lion fish are quite poisonous and are not indigenous to this area and are taking over natural habitat. Even in the Land Sea park snorkelers are encouraged to kill any they see. I quickly warned G so she would not blunder into the beast as I almost had.

The mangroves on this day were sprinkled with barracuda. Barracuda are curious and tend to come over for an up close look. They will usually not bother you but they can be a bit unnerving. As we rounded the end of the Mice about 30' in front of us was an 8 to 10' Big Fuckin' Shark (that's BFS to you). Neither G nor I knew exactly what the BFS was but it was not a nurse, bull, or reef. It had a pointy end and big eyes with a mouth full of teeth and paused and gave us the once over. We stood still. After a look he went South and we swam North. I think he was as lemon but what do I know...

On Christmas Day back at the “ranch” we showered and “dressed” for the Sampson Cay Club's annual Christmas dinner. “Dressed” means: Gigi wore a dress and I wore a shirt other than a T-shirt since it was sort of “dress up” affair. From the pictures you will see we had a great time. Good food. Good friends. Perfect way to end a Christmas Day.

Mustang Sally-Island Times & The Seaplane

It is a couple days after Christmas and we are “on the hook” right outside of Sampson Cay Club &
Marina (Google search the name and you will see where we were). We had asked if we can get a slip for the weekend as another “blow” is coming only to find out they are going to be full-at this moment they were almost empty. Vic & I were sitting in the cockpit reading when the mega yacht parade started.

You have your average, everyday mega yacht in the 100 ' range like Island Times and then you have the larger size like Mustang Sally at 139'. Keep in mind that these yachts bring their “toys” with them-both yachts had 18 foot tenders (Mustang Sally's tender had 4, 300hp engines). Mustang Sally was going to tie up alongside inside the marina which means they would have to go through a small “cut.” Unfortunately since Mustang Sally was 139' long she could not turn around once inside the cut because the channel is too narrow. The captain had to turn her around out in the anchorage and then BACK her in—it was a something to see. You could only watch in awe as he backed this mega yacht through the cut- a cut no wider then 50' add current & wind to make the job more of a challenge. In addition to the t/t Mustang Sally with the “go fast” engines she had an inflatable, jet skis, and a 60' Harkers Island built “sport fish” so the owners could go fishing if they wanted too.

Island Times was at the dock across from where we were anchored and they had been at Sampson Cay for a good bit of December and were really great people. Like all good cruisers as we sat on the stern we had the VHF on listening to what we call “the party line”- people talking on the VHF. The party line is where you find out what is going on in the area. As we listened we heard Island Times speak to a pilot and the pilot's answer was he was landing at that very moment, what we did not know until we looked up was that the pilot was landing a seaplane right in front of us. The seaplane taxied to within 50' of Oconee where the t/t Island Times picked up the owners guests . It took 3 trips to move both guests and the luggage to the boat.

There were many other yachts & mega yachts that came to Samson Cay that day but Mustang Sally and Island Times were the hit of the day. I want to point out that both of these yachts are privately owned. Mustang Sally is owned by the gentleman that owns Quiznos Subs, I do not know who owns Island Times.

“Go to Da Wedder Side Mon”

Staniel Cay does New Year week right with 4 days of festivities. There is the “pirate party” at the yacht club on New Years Eve eve, eve. Then on New Years Eve eve, the events really kick up with an auction of items donated by cruiser with the proceeds going to island charities. There is a local artist brazer. Followed by the C class Bahamian sloop Captain's dinner & cocktail party. Early in the day the C class skippers and their families conch, fish, and lobster. Then they prepare a free dinner for everyone that shows up complete with conch fritters (best I ever had), conch salad, fried grouper and hog fish, and grilled fish and lobster. All to be washed down with gallons of Rum Punch. The evening is finished off with a lottery for cruiser positions on the 4 Bahamian Class C Sloop races on New Year Eve (a pig roast follows the race). All culminating on New Year Day with a cruiser's regatta with Staniel Cay's newly refurbished A-Class Bahamian sloop the Lady Muriel competing against the cruisers. If you are in this area it is an event not to be missed.

I was lucky enough to have my name drawn to race on Slaughter, a C- class Bahamian sloop from Blackpoint (yes I know there is no head sail, but this is the Bahamas).You ain't sailed “tippy” until you sail one of these babies. Ballast is usually lead ingots, rock, or concrete that can be added to or removed entirely dependent on crew weight and wind conditions (our Captain immediately took all ballast out of Slaughter when he saw me). The boats are so over canvased it is not funny. The A class boats like Lady Muriel are 40' in length, carry a 60' mast and a 30' boom. And the A class boats are “stable” compared to the Cs.

Big Daddy, Capt. of Slaughter, just barely made it to the start line in time, anchored and we that were to be his crew jumped aboard ( almost a mistake. The boat almost turned turtle). From my count "Slaughter" had at least 4 broken ribs. Big Daddy gave a perfectly good tiller to the crew boat and shipped a rotten piece of shit that didn't fit, hacked it down with a butcher knife, and re-anchored for the start. The total instructions for the crew from "Big Daddy" was, " Get to da wedder side mon!” Crew sits on a "pry" a 2x6 that slides from side to side so the “moveable ballast”(us crew) can get further out board of the boat...and you got to be quick (me quick? Ha!). The boom is about 6” off the deck when you tack and it requires slithering off the pry, diving into the cockpit, and clamoring up the “wedder” side all in seconds.

The start is from anchor with boats jockeying for "a little advantage" by placing their anchors line over the next boats and pulling like hell when the start is announced. The start is initiated by one boat hollering, "you reddie Mon?" Then all hell breaks loose. Sails go up and anchors are hauled at a frantic pace, accompanied by a long steady stream of obscenities loosed by all crew and skippers. By Gully had thrown her anchor line over ours to give them selves a better start with Big Daddy screaming “You Cheat! You Cheat! I nebber knowed you a cheater, mon!” We started last...of course.

The tiller broke on the first windward leg and Big Daddy steered by holding the rudder between his island sided paw. I did good balancing the boat on the “pry” nimbly sliding in and out with the gust to keep Slaughter balanced and going. Old Vic sure ain't as quick as I used to be and put us in irons twice and was relegated to the cellar because I could not "get to da wedder" side quick enough. The first time the boat almost turned turtle. What a hoot!!! I still got a big “SEG” plastered across my face. Wet from head to toe, put in my place and told not to more, we finished last. I can't remember when I've had so much fun.

I've started something a little new with this Blog entry. I'm going to post with the new photos copies of the charts of the area to give you a better idea the waters we sail.

We are currently in Compass Cay Marina with Tucker Rolle the owner of the best island in the Exumas (well one of the best). The next post will include our visit with Tucker.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks

Vic & Gigi

Christmas Revisited

2009-12-25T07:33:00.001-05:00

Christmas Revisited

In late December 2007, Oconee and I were hanging out anchored off Dinner Key. It was my first Christmas away from home and family. I was just a little bit home sick and feeling a touch sorry for my “sorry” self when Christmas came to me. The story bares repeating, if for no other reason than I like it.

To all my Friends,
Merry Christmas,

Vic

A Christmas Story - Dinner Key, Coconut Grove, Miami, FL:

It had been one of “those” days - frustrations over batteries and still no solution. It was time for a change of pace. I needed to get off the boat and adjust my attitude. Mule and I headed for Sonny’s, a local watering hole tucked in between two up-scale marinas in the Grove. I wandered in, took a seat at the bar and ordered a New Castle. New Castles usually help.

While I was contemplating the bottom of my glass and considering ordering another beer, a young black man with a toothy smile and a friendly continence drifted in and took a seat at the other end of the bar. I never learned his name but he looked like a “Ray” so I am going to call him Ray. He was the kind of guy that had a kind word and a smile for everyone - the world was his friend. It did not take long to realize that Ray had been given a over abundance of happiness and love but had been a bit short changed on the lesser important things in life - money and intelligence.

Peggy and Ernestina, the bar maids, greeted Ray and wished him Merry Christmas. As the three friends stood talking, Peggy gave Ernestina a knowing glance and without so much as a word she headed for the kitchen. Soon Peggy returned with two Christmas presents for Ray, one from each of them. Ray just beamed and ever so deliberately peeled the wrapping off the presents like you and I would peel a grapefruit.

Ray received that day a fishing rod..., a tackle box..., and a double shot of the “Christmas spirit” with a touch of humanity on the side. On Thursday; December 20th, at 4:20 in the afternoon; Christmas had come to Dinner Key, at Sonny’s in the Grove; Miami; Florida. I was lucky enough to witness its coming.

Merry Christmas To All,
From Oconee, Mule & I,

Vic

No-Name-Harbor to Sampson Cay, 12/23/2009

2009-12-23T10:50:00.002-05:00

West Palm Beach to Sampson Cay, Exumas:

12/01/2009: Lake Worth to Las Olas Marina, Ft. Lauderdale, FL – 49nm, Mile Marker: 1065sm
12/08/2009: Ft. Lauderdale to No-Name-Harbor, Key Biscyne, FL -34 nm, Mile Marker: 1098sm
12/10-11/2009: No-Name Harbor to Nassau, Bahamas – 163 nm
12/12/2009: Nassau to Normans Cay, Exumas – 43 nm
12/16/2009: Normans Cay to Sampson Cay, Exumas – 34nm

Total for Voyage: 1046nm.

Oconee is at anchor snuggled up to the western shore of Sampson Cay. Sampson is shielding us from a brisk ENE wind of about 25 knots. As is my usual routine, Gigi has just finished listening to Chris Parker and writing down the weather “guesses” for the next few days (we live by weather) and I'm sitting in the cockpit, sipping coffee and watching the day come alive. And it's a dismal one with gray scudding clouds, squalls, and winds in the 25 knot range. Poor weather is not all bad it has given me time to reflect on the events since our last post – a perfect passage to Nassau, a not so perfect passage to Norman's Cay in the upper Exumas, conching and a green flash, a perfect asshole in Sampson Cay.

The Passage:

We passed a pleasant few day in the company of Ron Linginer in Ft. Lauderdale. Ron, as usual, was a gracious host and, I might add, a good friend. Then moved on down the coast off shore to No-Name-Harbor, on Key Biscayne, Fl, in company of Cat's Paws, with Mack & Shirley MacVean to position our selves for the crossing to the Bahamas.

The passage to Nassau was so good you should be envious. It was positively one of the most beautiful 26 hours I've ever spent on the water. The Gulf Stream was a piece of cake almost flat and only held us in it's grasp for about 3 hours. We went thru schools of Portuguese Man-A-War all with sails set heading god knows where. Pods of dolphin jumping, arching, tail walking and swimming with the boat. Flying fish skittering across the waves. And the icing on the cake was the Navy blue of the Gulf Stream set against floating rafts of gold Sargasso weed.

Cat/Gun Cay Cut that led us on to the Banks was a little of a “pucker” but certainly doable. You approach Gun Cay and go within 50 feet of shore. Then hard right for about 500 yards till the water is deep and blue. Hard left following the deep water thru the cut. Hard right onto blue green water of the banks following curve of Cat Cay's Southern shore. Continue for about a mile and then you are home free and headed for Tongue of the Ocean 60 miles away. And yes no marks.

The night on the Banks was magic. The sky was so clear and the water so calm it was hard to draw a line between where water and sky met. And the bow wake was creating "stars" of it's own in phosphorescence almost as if answering the beauty of the heavens.

The Tongue Of The Ocean and N.W. Providence channel were like glass....and they usually woop my butt. NW Providence light (yes light and it was working that night) was a zoo of ships but that's normal. We were approaching Nassau just as the sun crept up over eastern horizon. Oconee cleared in with Nassau Harbor Control and by 8:15 AM we were tied up at Nassau Harbor Club waiting on Customs and Immigration to clear into the Bahamas. The Customs lady was nice, the Immigration man was drunk and an pain in the butt. This 26 hour passage will live in my memory for the rest of my life.
Passage to Norman Cay in the Upper Exumas:

For every ying the is a yang and I knew the cruising “gods” would exact a toll at some point...I just didn't know it would be so soon. Oconee and Cat's Paws were not in Nassau long. In my opinion, Nassau is a place to clear into the Bahamas, re-provision (read buy rum), and get the hell out as quick as possible. Nassau is not the Bahamas - filled with crooks and politicians (but I am being redundant) and is the exact opposite of most of the rest of the Bahamas – friendly, helpful and safe.

On Sunday we headed for Normans Cay about 40 miles across the banks with about a 3 mile stretch of water known as the Yellow Banks about mid-way across. This particular uninviting stretch of water is sprinkled with black, ugly, coral heads just below the surface – not really a problem in good light but you must pay attention.

Just as Oconee entered the Yellow Banks the engine shut down. G and I got it re-started. Two minutes later it shut down again. My attention went from coral to engine very quickly. We radioed Cat's Paws on the VHF and asked her to be our “eyes” while we focused on keeping the engine running. All I wanted to do was get thru the coral and then I'd “lie-a-hull” (stop the boat) and dig into the engine. It was not to be. After about the 20th re-start it died and would not relight.

We put Oconee under full sail and beat our way out of the Yellow Banks with Shirley acting as our eyes for coral. She was a great help it left us free to sail the boat. When Cats Paw announced we had cleared the “heads” I shut down the boat and checked the fuel filter. The filter was OK but there was just enough air in the head of the filter that when we fell off a wave the engine would get a “gulp” of air instead of fuel. I cleaned the seals on the filter and refilled the filter with fuel. Problem solved.

About 2 miles out of Normans Cay I noticed we were quickly catching up with Mack and Shirley. He had shut his engine down with over heat problems – his alternator belt that also drives the water pump had disintegrated. Oconee took him in tow and were soon snuggled up to the West side of Normans Cay at anchor. Mack is a master mechanic and had soon figured out it was just an old belt...but the belt when it few apart did just as “Murphy” would have predicted. It hit the coolant overflow tank and cracked it. Mack replaced the belt, and calked and duct taped the tank – back in the saddle again.

Norman's Cay is an interesting place. Once the center of cocaine smuggling for the Bahamas, it is now a private island complete with bar, MacDuff's Bar and Grill, centrally located just off the end of the airport runway – easily accessible off the beach by dink or by plane...and the “puddle jumpers” fly in often just for lunch. Normans is shaped like a horseshoe with a shallow lagoon complete with the skeleton of an old C-47 that didn't quite make the runway during the peak drug days. Today it has great for conching.

The crews of both boats love conching ...and conch. It took more time to get into the lagoon by dink than it did to take our limit of legal conch – the limit is 6 per boat, by the way. After cleaning the conch we settled in for sundowners and what was going to be a gorgeous sunset. G commented, “this might be green flash territory.” I got the camera. We moved to the cabin top for an unobstructed view, sipped, and watched. The horizon was absolutely clear. As the sun slowly sank beneath the sea, I pulled the trigger on the old Nikon and just held it down letting it fire a series of photos just as the sun turned from yellow to green. ….And I got the whole thing on pixels (see web photos for the whole sequence).

Sampson Cay:

There was a Westerly blow coming and anchored off the western shore of any cay is no place to be in a West wind. We headed for Sampson Cay Club and Marina to “hide” until the blow was over. Sampson is usually a peaceful place to wait out a blow complete with nice restaurant and bar (excellent Rum Punch Sampson Style). This time was a little different...at least for 2 days of the stay until “The Asshole” left.

There was this obnoxious German mega yacht owner. He treated the staff at Sampson with contempt and complete disrespect. No one mattered except him and his needs. His yacht was complete with all the toys including a BBBig ocean racing type boat equipped with twin large diesel engines as a dink. This particular Sunday morning he cranked the engine at 8:00 AM. You could not hear yourself think in the marina. He literally shook the lady in the sail cat behind him out of her bunk. She came on deck in her “jammies,” stood on deck with her hands over her ears. Did that phase him? Nope, he sat on deck drinking his coffee and glared. This guy was a real shit. Probably the biggest shit I've met over my years on the water. The only good part was he had toasted the engines 2 days ago trying to get off a sandbar in the lagoon. Why he though he could run the boat in ankle deep water I'll never know. He at least had good entertainment value. Everyone watched and no one made a move to help (I compromised and took photos). It is rare among cruisers to not instantly go to the aid of someone in trouble. We made an exception for The Asshole.

When he cranked this morning it was to see if the damn thing had experienced some sort of miracle cure over night. I should say the engineer cranked while The Asshole sat and watched. When he finally shut it down there was a cheer that went up throughout the marina with echos of "asshole" reverberating thru out. Didn't phase the shit one bit...the good news was his transmission only ran in reverse, the engines were belching blue smoke, and there was only a trickle of cooling water laced with steam. There is some justice in the world.

We plan on staying anchored off Sampson until after Christmas (they have a great Christmas Dinner).

Merry Christmas to All,

Vic & Gigi

PS – I'm thinking of doing a short post on Christmas day. Keep an eye out.

Palm Coast to Los Olas Marina, Ft. Lauderdale 11/9-22/2009

2009-11-24T12:53:00.001-05:00

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Palm Coast, FL to Ft Lauderdale, FL – November 19 to December 2, 2009:

11/ 19/2009: Palm Coast to Daytona – 27nm.

11/20/2009: Daytona to NASA Causeway Anchorage – 47nm.

11/21/2009: NASA Causeway to Spoil Islands Anchorage Near Palm Bay – 35nm.

11/22/2009: Palm Bay to Vero Beach Mooring Field – 25nm.

11/27/2009: Vero Beach to Hobe Sound Anchorage – 42nm.

11/28/2009: Hobe Sound to Lake Worth Anchorage – 14 nm.

12/01/2009: Lake Worth to West Palm Beach Anchorage – 9nm.

12/02/2009: West Palm to Los Olas Marina, Ft. Lauderdale – 40nm.

Total to Date: 762nm.

ICW Mile Marker: 1065

Palm Coast to Vero Beach, Florida:

We spent a wonderful early Thanksgiving tied to the dock at Palm Coast Marina. Palm Coast was like old home week for us. Steve & Aggie, off Nellie Bly, a couple we met in the Bahamas last year were spending some dock time doing “work” penance to rebuild their cruising kitty. Then Pretty Penny arrived with Bob and Penny, friends from Sampson Cay last year. Pretty Penny is a 52 foot motor cat that looks like an “aircraft carrier” when viewed headed down the ICW.

Tom and Olga, Gigi's cousin and wife, arranged an early Thanksgiving dinner for us on the 16^th. We arrived at Toms just in time to see the Space Shuttle launch. Seeing a launch has always been on my “bucket list” - I got pictures

Palm Coast is sort of a neat place. It has miles and miles of walking trail. Lots of community activities and Piazzas, one of the best Italian restaurants I've ever eaten at...and cheap too. Piazzas is a “different” place. The owners and waitstaff are all dressed in black that looks like it came right out of the Blues Brother..or maybe the mafia. The night before we left G and I went by for dinner and stopped to tell the owner we would seen him next year. This guy is short, muscular, 50ish, jet black hair, with dark brown eyes and all Italian. He reaches up, cradles G's head between his, huge hands and gently kisses her on both cheeks. This man knows how to do business....and G loved it.

I've always been a bird lover – I share this love with my brother Ronnie. In truth it was he that first sparked my interest in the almost infinite variety of birds. Ronnie helped me see that for every environ there is a species of bird that exploits it. Palm Coast is made up of low county with a labyrinth of canals, tidal marsh, and mangrove. It is a country built for Ibis. Almost everywhere you see flocks in flight or groups poking about the marsh or mangrove. On occasion you see one walking like god's clown down the middle of the road. It's then you realize how well designed these bird are to exploit the marsh. Their outsized feet remind one of the mangrove roots they feed among with toes designed to spread the load over the water laden earth. Their curved beak is a perfect tool for probing the marsh for food. It is a design perfect for it's habitat but on a hard surface road it sure does look the odd bird out.

Old Vic came to Palm Coast with 4 acquaintances and left with 4 new friends. Friendship and Thanksgiving have always been linked in my mind and after this Thanksgiving even more so. We parted Palm Coast on the 19^thheaded for Vero Beach to get the dingy engine gone thru before we made the jump to the Bahamas. The hard part of cruising is you are always leaving friends behind. The good part of cruising is new and old friends are only an anchorage away.

Mosquito Lagoon is a wide open and shallow. It is just north of Titusville and Cape Canaveral – you can see the space shuttle launch gantries as you sail south. Usually this is a place to “get thru” but not this trip. It was a highlight. The wind was north and it actually gave us a sail (well motor sail) and some new friends, a pair of dolphins joined us and swam close to Oconee's quarter wake (right beside the wheel) for almost 20 minutes. Usually when you grab a camera the dolphin do a disappearing act but not this time. For almost 30 years I've been trying to get good photos of dolphin. This was my day. It was almost like they were posing for the camera. Mosquito Lagoon gave me another check mark on my “Bucket list” - get good photos of dolphin.

We anchored for the night off a small island near Palm Bay about 15 miles north of Vero Beach. Cooked a supper that could not be beat and settled into the cockpit with an after-dinner cocktail in hand. It was an absolutely clear dark night with just a sliver of a moon and stars splattered across the sky from horizon to horizon. The Space Station was supposed to be visible at around 7:06 PM and we wanted see if we could catch a glimpse as it passed over from the northeast to southwest. Right on cue she winked on, passed quickly over head with its steady firefly hued glow, and blinked out in the south as she passed in the wake of the earth's shadow. By noon the next day Oconee was rafted to Cavalier (Al and Jan Sullivan - new friends) in the Vero Beach mooring field.

Vero Beach to Los Olas Marina, Florida:

We used Vero to finish our re-provision for the Bahamas, get the dink engine a good tuneup, wait mail, and relax a little. This year we just happened to be here on the real Thanksgiving Day and Vero does it right with a pot luck for over 200 cruisers, music, and a flea market. And all just a short dink ride from the boat. The beauty of this type get together is the “diversity” (to use a overly used word). In the mooring field were boats from all over the world: almost every state in the good old USA, France, Canada (of course. I don't think there is anyone left in Canada), Germany, and many more. Everyone bringing their favorite foods. And again, Thanksgiving brings a time for renewed and new friendships...

Oconee and crew headed south on the 27^th for Lake Worth. Gigi and I had had our mail shipped there. You know you are in South Florida when curly tail lizards scamper about as you walk, every community is “gated,” English is a second language, boaters have no concept of courtesy (unless it's the Cuban macho brand), and you have to lockup everything that ain't nailed down - even have to lock the dink to the boat at night.

Oconee left Lake Worth late on the 1^st of December with the idea of getting as far south as possible to make the next days run to Los Olas Marina in Ft. Lauderdale as short as possible - 19 bridges makes this a pain in the butt. And any of you that follow in our wake do not make this run on the weekend. Most of it is a narrow walled canyon of zillion dollar homes and condos. Any boat wake reverberates off the walls making for endless wakes and a miserable trip.

We anchored for the night in a little pocket of deep water literally right off town of West Palm Beach. What a beautiful spot and we had it all too ourselves. We kept waiting for the cops to show up and run us off but no one bothered. In the middle of the night the wind built to 25ks and shifted to the southeast...shit! That nice anchorage turned to a rough as a cob. The wind built the seas to 2 to 3 feet and the current laid the boat ass to those seas with the anchor stretched out behind the boat. Usually when wind and current fight to control the direction of the boat it is no contest, current wins, as it did that night. It's sort of like trying to sleep on a roller coaster with the waves making a bass drum out of the stern and you inside. Not fun! Little sleep! We left a first light.

The good news was because the weather was lousy there were few “Florida Crazies” on the water and the canyon actually worked to our benefit by knocking down the waves and shielding us from the wind. Again for those of you that follow in our wake, if you run this area of the ICW the bridges are timed opening. You need to run at least 6.5ks to make the bridges on their schedule or you will spend a lot to time holding in place at the bridges.

Most bridge tenders are pleasant and professional but then there are those few... Of the nineteen we faced that day only 2 will live in infamy in the hearts of Oconee and crew - the Ocean Ave. Bridge & the Oakland Park Bridge. As we approached the Ocean Ave. bridge there were 3 boats in a line with Oconee the caboose in the train. I was close enough to read the name of the boat in front of us...and that is close by any standard, when the bridge tender says, “can't wait on the sailboat in line gotta' open for traffic.” And he closed his span and Oconee waited a half hour for the next opening. We would have cleared the bridge only minutes behind the last power boat. Shit!!

It had been long, wet, tedious, day on the water as we approached the Oakland Park bridge, the next to last bridge in the string. It was only 3 miles and one more bridge until we would be tied securely to a dock, beer in hand, and looking forward to a nap (remember last night gave us little in the way of rest). G called the Oakland Park bridge tender to make sure we would be included in his next scheduled opening. No answer. Called again, no answer. Called yet again, NO Answer! Called a 4^th time Still NO FUCKIN' Answer! Oconee and I did a not so dainty about face, circled and approached the bridge again (slower this time). Again the closed bridge forced us to do an about face . The the VHF came to life “do you folks want an opening?” As calmly as G could she responded, “Yes and we called you 4 times.” Now we have 3 miles to go to make the scheduled timed Sunrise Bridge opening and only 20 minutes to do it. We got there 5 minutes late and had to do “round abouts” for 30 minutes. Dock, Beer, Nap, and Showers had to be put on hold...damn it! Thanks to a bridge tender that was probably taking a nap of his own.

By 3:00 PM we were tied up next to “Cats Paws” and our friends Mac & Shirley and were settled in to a berth at Los Olas Marina. Early next week Oconee will make her way south to Key Biscayne, take on fuel and water, and prepare for the jump across the Gulf Stream to the Bahamas. The ICW charts are soon to be put away 'til spring. The Bahamas charts are already dug out and being pored over to set our course for the crossing. It looks like it will be a Christmas in the Exumas and a New Year Day Junkanoo in Staniel Cay in store for Oconee and crew. We are excited.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

PS – Voyages seem to have themes they develop on their own. This one seems to be “friend – new and old.”

PPS – For the first time Gigi contributed to our photos. Can you tell which are hers?

Beaufort, SC to Fernandina, FL 11/12/2009

2009-11-12T10:52:00.001-05:00

Beaufort, SC to Palm Coast, FL:

11/4 – 5/2009: Beaufort to Fernandian Beach, FL – 126 nm.

11/8/2009: Fernandina Beach to Pine Island Anchorage – 44nm.

11/9/2009: Pine Island Anchorage to Palm Coast Marina – 33 nm.

524 nautical miles to date.

“Remember The Bridge Opens On the Hour and Half Hour...”:

Remember the persistent scupper hose leak? Well it was still with us when we got to Beaufort. We moved the boat into a slip to make things more convenient to fix the hose and a half dozen other thing Oconee insisted I fix. I left the “hose job” to last since since it require me to assume the shape of a pretzel to even get to it. I hauled everything out of the quarter berth, grabbed my bag of bits and pieces needed to fix the problem (bits and pieces I'd spent half a day in Charleston chasing down), and inserted myself upside down into the quarter berth. I'd bought the WRONG “bits & pieces” - 1/4” too big.

Nancy, one of the folk that ran the marina, called her husband, Hank, that worked at the hardware store on Ladies Island just across the bridge on other side of the ICW. Hank had just what I needed. The Marina had a courtesy car they would loan you for one hour and it was available. Problem solved.

Nancy said, “You know we usually don't let people take the car to Ladies Island because the bridge opens on the hour and half hour but you are going to see Hank.” The last thing she said as I went out the door was, “Remember the bridge opens on the hour and half hour...”

Perhaps I should tell you a little about ICW bridges. Usually they open either on request (get to the bridge call them and they open) or on a fixed schedule like Ladies Island Bridge (hour and half hour). Normal procedure for fixed schedule bridges is you give them a call on the radio as you approach, they acknowledge your existence, and you are included in the next opening. If no boat is at a fixed schedule bridge they don't open. I've heard of some that didn't open even when a boat was there simply because they did not call the bridge but...

Back to the story... . I jumped in the car and traffic was just bloody awful. It took 20 minutes just to get across the bridge to the hardware store. Hank was great. In 5 minutes I had what I needed. Hank even volunteered to modify some parts for me if needed ( I love SC folk they are great). The power went off just as I approached the register. No power, no can pay. That took 10 minutes to fix. My hour clock is ticking and the traffic is still bumper to bumper – Atlanta has nothing on Ladies Island for traffic at least. I jumped in the car, wove my way thru the parking lot and inserted myself into a side street with a light and a turn lane. Three cycles later only one car had made the turn. There was one guy that just would not poke his nose into traffic and everyone was having to go around him. It took 10 minutes to make the turn. The traffic is bumper to bumper all the way to the Ladies Island Bridge but it is moving. I've got 10 minutes before that damn bridge open. I can still make it and be within my hour's limit.

The wheels of the car are actually on the bridge with seconds to spare...I ain't gonna' make it. I look up river and then down river and there are no boats...I got this one in the bag. The tender sound's his siren, the gates come down and the bridge opens. He opened that damn bridge for NO ONE! I'm doomed – never seen a bridge open for no one.

Nancy's voice is ringing in my ears, “Remember that bridge opens on the hour and half hour...” It sure does boats or no boats!

And Port Royal Sound Spat Us Out..:

We had planned to leave on Tuesday for the trip off shore to Fernandian Beach, FL. It is about a 125 mile trip out Port Royal Sound, down the Georgia coast and in the St. Mary's River to Fernandina. For Oconee that means about 22 hours and an over night voyage.

We left at 11:00 AM, that gave us the advantage of having the tide with us. G and I had figured it would take us about 3 hours to reach the sea buoy at the entrance to Port Royal Sound and make the turn down coast. We had not figured on the tide and the current Port Royal and full moon could give. We made 9 knots down Port Royal Sound and by 1:30 PM it has spat the Oconee out into the Atlantic Ocean like a watermelon seed between the fingers of a young boy. I'm glad as hell Oconee did not have to push that current. By 3:00 PM we were off Tybee Roads, the entrance to the Savannah River, and wallowing our way south at close to 7 knots.

We were treated to flocks of Northern Gannets diving for their supper. Gannets are open ocean birds and come to land only to breed. The Gannets put on a show, folding their wings tight to their body as they disappear below the surface of the water in their quest for food.

It was one of those rare cloudless days and we were lucky to see both a beautiful sunset and blood red moon rise. A clear sky at sea is like none other. You feel like you are part of the universe not just living on the fringes of it. It is a feeling city life can not even approach.

We spent the rest of the night slowing the boat down. Oconee and her crew did not want to enter the St. Mary's River in the dark. We hit the St. Marys just before dawn and spent about 30 minutes waiting for enough light to enter. By 8:00 AM we had the anchor down in Bell's River off Fernandian Beach, FL. We celebrated with a “Bloody Mary” and crashed for a well deserved nap.

Happy Birthday Gigi - November 7, 2009:

When I asked G what she wanted to do on her birthday she said, “Go to the farmer's market in Fernandian.” So that is just what we did – bought some veggies, locally made olive tapenade, and spent a pleasant day roaming the streets (read shops). We had a great lunch at one of G's favorite restaurants, 29 South, and the town even had a parade in her honor. It might have been because of Veterans Day but I choose to think it was for G. G and I both had a good time. G even let me have a drink at the Palace Saloon, the oldest tavern in FL. The Palace has been in existence for over 100 years. It's Pirate's Punch has been made by the same receipt for over 95 years and is still mixed in the same 55 gallon drum and served like a draft beer, on tap.

We had planned to go up to Cumberland Island and spend Saturday and Sunday but Hurricane Ida changed our plans – we boogied for Palm Coast Marina and a secure place to hunker down incase she decided to come our way. Here we will have an early Thanksgiving Dinner with Gigi's cousin Tom and his wife Olga, gam a little with some friends we met last year in Royal Island, and do a little re-provisioning with help from Tom, Olga, & Steve and Agie off Nellie Bly.

Until Next Time,

Fairwinds & Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gig

PS: Gigi took the photo of me in her reading glasses – says it makes me look “metrosexual” whatever that means. I'm not so fond of it but there it is, what can I say.

PPS: The photos of the sunsets at Beaufort were so spectacular I could not resist publishing more than one. Hope you enjoy them.

Mathews Point to Charleston

2009-10-30T09:22:00.001-04:00

Matthews Point Marina to Charleston, SC:

10/20/2009: Matthews Point to Swansboro, NC – 46 nm (46 nm total)

10/21/2009: Swansboro to Wrightsville Beach, NC – 48 nm (94 nm total)

10/25/2009: Wrightsville Beach to Calabash Ck, SC – 53 nm (146 nm total)

10/26/2009: Calabash Ck to Cow House Ck (off Waccamaw River), SC – 38 nm ( 184 nm total)

10/27/2009: Cow House Ck to S. Santee River, SC – 33 nm (216 nm total)

10/28/2009: S. Santee River to Dewees Ck, SC – 32 nm (248 nm total)

10/29/2009: Dewees Ck to Charleston, SC – 14 nm (261 nm total)

“Let's get er out there on the water. Anything gonna' happen, gonna' happen out there, Boss.”

Capt. Ron

Let me start by saying this is “Oconee's” year. It's her year to go south and “Gigi's Island's” turn to sit, not so patiently, at Matthews Point waiting for our return in the spring. Boats are like women they don't like it when you run off with another boat and will extract their “pound of flesh” when you return to them.

Gigi and I had prepared for this and brought her “jewelry” - new hatches and a complete canvas enclosure for the cockpit to spiff the old girl up a bit. I spent all summer getting her ready: did her teak, cleaned her from stem to stern, fixed numerous problems she had saved for me but, unknown to me, she was not quite thru slappin' Old Vic around.

We had planned to leave on Monday, the 19^th of October, but an unusual stent of cold weather left us snuggling up to the “electricity” so we could have heat for one more day. The next morning “Skat” and “Oconee” cut their dock lines and headed out bound for Swansboro. Skat and her crew, Jim & Barb Thompson and their dog Missy, will be traveling in company with Oconee for a time.

It did not take long for Oconee to show us who was in charge. The bilge pump kept coming on. The source was the deck hose from one of the deck drains. Oconee is so loaded down with “stuff” (that 10 cases of beer is an essential) the scupper drains are below the water line when we really power her up and they leaked like a sieve. We backed off a few turn on the engine, cleaned the anti-siphon valve on the bilge pump and the problem was under control (we'll fix it when we get to Wrightsville Beach or so I thought). I was no sooner back on deck when the tack on the engine went nuts – no real problem I know what 1800 rpms sounds like. I'll check the connections when Oconee comes to rest tonight.

Time for that second pot of coffee... Below at the sink cleaning the french press in prep for the new brew, Oconee stopped her sink up just for me. So thoughtful. The old “hand plunger” trick fixed that (at least I can fix something). What's that I smell? Oil? Yep, oil. The pan gasket bolts had loosened up again. This has been a recurring problem with this engine. But she had not done it all summer. Why now? I'll fix it in Wrightsville. Oh well that's sailing.

The trip from Swansboro the next day was a record for us. There are 4 swing bridges between Swansboro and Wrightsville Beach and only one opens on request – the rest open on a fixed schedule. A schedule that usually does not correspond well with the speed of a sailboat (power boats make em we don't). Today the fates were with Skat and I we hit every bridge dead on time with virtually no waits.

Needless to say our stay at Wrightsville Beach was spent fixin' problems....or so I thought. The bilge hose leak was to linger. That was the bad news. The good news was I had had a deck leak when it rained hard in Oconee ever since I own the boat. I now knew the origin of that leak – that damn bilge hose had a small split in it under the hose clamp. I'll fix it in Charleston.

The Sunset Beach Bridge & Beautiful Anchorages:

With the exception of running aground 4 times the next few days are defined by a little nostalgia and one beautiful anchorage after another. I didn't run aground once last year but have already done so 4 times this year and all but one my fault. Admittedly I was in the channel 3 of the 4 times but if I had been focused I would not have looked so stupid. Oh well....

The Sunset Beach bridge it the only cable operated pontoon bridge left on the east coast of the US and maybe in the world for all I know. It is a throwback to a slower paced time. A time before runaway condos. A time where most beaches were family beaches. My family spent our summer vacations at Sunset in the company of my Sister-in-laws family and other good friends. Our children grew up there. We learned to castnet for shrimp and to slow down from the hustle of work here.

This will be Oconee's last trip thru the Sunset Beach Bridge. The old lady will be replaced by a highrise by the time we return next spring. As we passed thru for the last time I leaned out of the cockpit to personally thank the bridge tender for the opening and let him know I would miss “his” bridge. He nodded and with a slight down cast look said , “Me too.”

The next 3 days of the Charleston leg of the trip was defined by the anchorages – all beautiful and all different. Calabash Creek actually defines the boarder between North Carolina and South Carolina. It is adjacent to Little River Inlet. You anchor in the bend of the creek, lined with trees and small sand beaches. The opposite shore is a curve of sloping oyster shell banks of white and silver with a hint of pink. Stir into that scene the warm light of a setting sun, a little music, a friend or two, and sundowners and you have a small piece of heaven.

Cow House Creek could not be more different. You turn left off the Waccamaw River and enter the narrow cut into the creek. The Waccamaw is an old, bendy , cyprus lined river that snakes its way thru South Carolina from just below Myrtle Beach to Georgetown and is one of the most beautiful stretches of water on the ICW. Cow House is really not a creek (at least not any more, I'm sure it was once before the Waccamaw took a “meander” and cut it off). You anchor behind what is now an island cut off from the river and in complete isolation. There is a feeling of peace here. Here nature rules. Civilization could be a million miles away. It is a place, that if you let it, will share it's peace with those that seek its solitude.

The ICW crosses the Santee River not once but twice (N.Santee & S. Santee). The best anchorage is in the S. Santee. Here Skat and Oconee settled in for the night. The next day gave us a run thru Cape Romain National Wildlife Refuge. It is flat country with finger like deep creeks flowing thru the marsh with names like “Five Fathom ,” Bull ” and “Toomer.” As the name implies wildlife abounds. G and I have seen wild cat here and, this year, a bald eagle sitting regally on and oyster shell bank.

We spent the night in Long Ck off Dewees Ck. It is one of my favorite anchorages on the ICW. You anchor in 20' of water and see 80' next to the banks (rarely do you see even 20' on the ICW these days). Only 15 miles from Charleston you might as well be on the moon for the difference. The only hint you may be near large cosmopolitan city like Charleston is the loom of it's lights at night and the sails of the new Ashley Bridge on the horizon by day. This is a special place filled with the call of birds tucked back up in the marsh. Here small hummocks of trees push their way skyward like small islands rising out of the saw grass. Add the parade of masts and superstructures of boats just visible over the marsh (see photo of Skat over the top of the marsh on in the web photos) and you have one example of why I love this life.

The next morning we pushed on thru the Ben Sawyer Bridge, across Charleston Harbor, and by 11:00 AM were tied up at Charleston City Marina to live the good life (well city life) for a few days. Charleston always brings good food, a great place to stretch your legs, and...time to fix stuff that's broke or at least git part to fix stuff that's broke.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

Off Like a Herd of Turtles....

2009-10-18T13:30:00.001-04:00

We Are off Like a Herd of Turtles...

October 18, 2009:

The tanks are full, the gear is stowed, the “to do” list has gone from pages to lines, Oconee is bursting at the seams with “ship's stores” (including 9 cases of beer & 6 boxes of wine), and the “Old Girl” is way down on her waterline. We are as ready as we can be.

Let the voyage begin!

Let's see where was I before cruising was interrupted by summer. To put it quite bluntly Gigi and I have not stopped running since the end of the music festival at Ocracoke in early June. At the end of the festival we crossed the Pamlico Sound to Washington, NC, for a reunion with “Oconee” to start to reclaim what a year of sitting idle had done to my poor girl. She gave me a list that was a bit daunting: clean the fridge that obviously something had died in, install new hatches, refurbish all the teak, clean her from from the stem to the stern, get a full enclosure built for the cockpit (ain't gonna' freeze our butts off again), install AIS (poor man's radar), rebuild the old Dell computer for navigation and single side band communication. Then the real race started.

Gigi has a new granddaughter, Taylor Faith Perry and it is without a doubt a Grandmother's duty to make multiple visits to “take care” her and do a little bonding with her other granddaughter, Brennan Grace . I must say they are real cuties and Old Vic is a little smitten himself. Then multiple trips to Richmond for doctors visits and to move “Gigi's Island” to Matthews Point Marina where she will spend this winter.

In mid-August, G and I took a little road trip. My son Noel & his wife Celine have moved to De Moines, Iowa and it was time for a visit. Along the way we visited our friends John & Vicki Skemp in Marshall, NC, Wild Bill Morris and his fine lady Donna in Knoxville, and Becky & George Shennan, in the middle of nowhere in the mountains of NC. We took in the State Fair in Iowa (what a state fair should be by the way). Visited and photographed the Bridges of Madison County of movie fame. And visited John Wayne's birthplace in Winterset, Iowa.

Back home at Matthews Point Gigi sprinted for Richmond for more doctor's visits and then on to Cary to squeeze in some quality time with her grand babies. I drove to Georgia to help my brothers rebuild our dock at Lake Sinclair (never built a dock from the bottom up but there is a first time for everything). Then it was back to Oconee to finish up her demands with a side trip to Trenton, Georgia (my brothers and I have some property there).

Oh yes, to round out the summer we suspended work on Oconee & Gigi's Island for visit with old friends. Buddy Bulow and Sible Shirley now live on a farm complete with, horses, chickens, fainting goats, and a couple of donkeys. Blackjack,the male donkey, (see photos) fell in love with Gigi. I accused her of playing with “Buddy's Ass.”

As I write G is finishing up her chores on “Gigi's Island” in hopes of a noon departure tomorrow.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

PS – If you follow the link to my photos on the website you will find photos of our summer adventures.

De "Gigi's Island" She Done Reach: 5/21/2009

2009-05-20T21:14:00.002-04:00

De “Gigi’s Island” She Done Reach: 5/21/2009

5/13-14/2009: Green Turtle Cay, Bahamas to Cape Canaveral, FL, USA - 214nm.

5/15-16/2009: Cape Canaveral, FL to Cumberland Island, GA - 167nm.

5/17/2009: Cumberland Island, GA to Amelia Island, FL - 10nm.

Passage to St. Mary’s... NOT!: 5/13-14/2009

The “Island” was anchored in White Sound, Green Turtle Cay. The morning broke bright and clear with an ESE wind at about 15ks with plans to take the Mule over to New Plymouth and spend a pleasant day exploring one of my favorite towns in the Bahamas. Then we listened to Chris Parker, the weather guru. It looked like we had a good window to make the passage to St. Mary’s, Ga, but not if we waited until the next day. New Plymouth would have to wait ‘till next year.

We had a pleasant sail down the banks and were off Great Sail Cay by supper time (fixed one of G’s favorite meals - chicken in a wine with mustard sauce over rice). Gigi had the 9 to midnight watch and I retired to get a few winks. There were thunder heads all around but the Island seemed be living a charmed life for the moment and none were coming our way. At change of watch we were about an hour from leaving the Banks and Gigi took my place in the bunk. Just as we were leaving the Matanilla Shoal (edge of banks) the moon erupted from the sea between two huge thunder heads. It was like watching a volcano with a deep orange and red moon spat out the top of the clouds.

We hit the Gulf Stream at 3:00 AM and things went from sugar to shit. The seas were supposed to be 3 to 5 from the South but were very confused and instead of the predicted 3 to 5 they were 5 to 8 footers. Eight foot seas are “doable” in relative comfort but the “confused” made it miserable. The boat would handle it but it’s inhabitants were being thrown all over the place - sort of like a punch drunk prize fighter taking round house punches, a-left-then-a-right, a-left-then-a-right. Not fun and hard on old bodies and gear. We hoped when we altered course to St. Marys it would be better. It was worse... much worse. We chucked our plans for St. Marys and altered course for Cape Canaveral, 70 miles to the NW.

By sunup we were approaching the Eastern edge of the Gulf Stream the seas had organized themselves into a nice SE swell. We eased into Canaveral planning tie up at a marina, clear US Customs, and crash. The cruising community is small and we were met at the dock by John Stevenson, a single handler we met in Marsh Harbor of “Sarah” fame. We were too late to clear in so we just crashed and met John for supper later. He told us that Customs when he cleared in confiscated all his vegetables and meats even his prepackaged meats that had been shipped into the Bahamas from the States. Since Customs did not know we were there and we still had good weather...why tempt fate? We left the next morning for St. Mary, GA, keeping company with John in “Sarah.”

Cumberland Island, GA & Amelia Island Yacht Harbor: 5/15-16/2009

The Island and Sarah headed off shore Saturday morning sailing for the entrance of the St.Mary’s river and Fernandian Beach, FL., about 150 miles North. The trip was as good as it gets - gentle southerly breezes and following seas. By 10:00 AM on Saturday we were off Fernandina. Since US Customs does not work on the weekend we decided to anchor behind Cumberland Island, enjoy the sights on Cumberland, and move down to Fernandina late in the day on Sunday.

John joined us for supper. Then we all crashed early to catch up on some sleep. I’ve said it many times Cumberland Island is one of the most beautiful places on God’s earth. Where else can you have live oak canopied lanes, wild turkey, Spanish horses, salt marshes, and an 18 mile beach almost to yourself. The Park Rangers and guides make the island history and lore come alive. Our Ranger had been living and working on the island for close to 30 years and still gets excited helping to tell it’s story. I love Cumberland.

Back on the boat we hauled anchor and headed for Fernandian just ahead of weather...again. We ended up at Amelia Island Yacht Harbor about 3 miles South of Fernandina just ahead of a front. Amelia Island Yacht Harbor is very protected but maneuvering is also very tight. Good Old Vic, broke one of his major boating rules, “Never put yourself in a position where you have to use seamanship.” I made a wrong turn down between two piers. With cross current and cross wind the Island had to be turned around (she does not back) and motored back out of what I just got us into. Gigi’s Island is about 45' in length with bow pulpit and dingy davits and the fairway between the piers was about 47' - had no time to be figure it out just time to rely on instinct. I backed and filled the Island turning her in her own length, ricocheted off a piling, and just managed not to hit a single boat...but I did put a scratch in Gigi’s gelcoat from a U bolt on that damn piling. It was one of the best pieces of boat handling I’ve every done even if I did hit something. Luck counts.

De “Gigi’s Island” She Done Reach: 5/18/2009

After we docked Gigi called Customs and arranged for them to come clear us in Monday morning.

Over the winter, I read the biography of Mr. Evans W. Cottman, “Out-Island Doctor.” He taught high school chemistry in Indiana for 30 years and then moved to the Bahamas in the 1950s. Note I called him “Mr.” not “Dr.” The Bahamas had such a lack of doctors at the time they would licence almost any person with a scientific back ground to be a “practicing” doctor. When Mr. Cottman landed at True Blue, on Crooked Island he was the first “doctor” the island had ever seen. The local constable literally took him door to door, knocked on the door, saluted, gathered the people within, and announced, “De doctuh he done reach!” Translation, “The doctor had arrived.”

At 11:30 on Monday the 18th of May, “de Island she done reach.” We cleared US Customs and were back in the US of A.

We are currently hold up at Amelia Island waiting for the weather to clear. It has been blowing a bloody gale and raining sideways for the last 3 days. These conditions are expected to continue unabated until late Thursday. We have had 9.6" of rain over the last 24 hours and that does not include Monday or Sunday. As I write the boat is heeled over 15 degrees in the slip from the wind and it sounds like someone is throwing buckets of water at the boat...I think I’m growin’ webbed feet.

We hope to get out of here on Sunday (after the seas have calmed down) and head back off shore for Southport, NC, about a 270 nm to the North...if we don’t get blown away or drown first.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic

John's Bahamian Pub Crawl 2/12/2009

2009-05-12T11:13:00.001-04:00

The Pub Crawl of John Grossenbacher: 5/12/2009

5/3/2009: Marsh Harbor to Great Guana Cay - 9 nm.

5/4/2009: Great Guana to Man-A-War / Elbow Cay, Hope Town - 17 nm.

5/7/2009: Hope Town to Lynyard Cay - 26 nm.

5/8/2009: Lynyard Cay to Marsh Harbor - 24 nm.

5/11/2009: Marsh Harbor to Green Turtle Cay - 23 nm.

5/2 to 11/2009

Let’s see where was I... .

Oh yes, John Grossenbacker’s visit. We arranged to have the taxi drop John at the Jib Room in Marsh Harbor - figured we might as well start John’s crawl out right. The Jib Room, on Saturday night has “Steak Night”with Desmond doing the fire limbo and Jason with Rake & Scrape music. Marvin, the chef at the Jib Room, cooks one of the best steaks to be found - a 1 pound New York strip cooked exactly to your taste, mmmm good.

Sunday we sailed over to Great Guana Cay and had a “nip” at Nipper Bar over looking the Atlantic and then settled into Grabbers on the beach in Fisher’s Bay for lunch and a laid back evening. There was one young Bahamian boy doing “archfull” flips into the pool. John figured he was practicing for the Olympic Bahamian Diving Team and commenced to act as “judge” for the practice session. When John would give him high a score he would beam and flash him a big white “toothfull” smile.

On Monday we beat our way over to Man-a-War Cay and after anchoring took Mule in for lunch at the “Dock and Dine.” Man-a-War is a working man’s island. Here you can get sail and canvas work done. Man-a-War is the home of the great Bahamian boat building traditions that go back for centuries. The Aubry’s still build quality boats here but have moved on to fiberglass. However, if you want wood it is still available, as witnessed by the photo of the raw knees and ribs soaking in the harbor waiting their day to become part of a some sound wooden boat.

Man-a-War is unique among the islands in that it was founded by Methodist. It is still very religious and is a “dry” island. The only other island I know of that is similar is Spanish Wells. The island is clean, neat, full of flowers, and friendly industrious people. Everywhere you look there is a quite lane with colorful houses painted an array of bright, heart lifting, pastels.

While in Man-a-War we were lucky enough to meet Sammy Aubry. Sammy, like most island men is a boat builder, in his 64 years of life he has built 18 boats. His favorite is the “Thrice Mine” - an 18', outboard powered, runabout. Why the name? Sammy will be happy to tell you the story. As he says in his old English brogue, “Caus Ioo owned her three times.”

Sammy built the boat as a young man in the 70s. While it was still sitting in the yard a man from the States strolled in, saw the boat, walked twice around her, got out his check book and she no longer was Sammy’s. Ten years later Sammy heard the boat was for sale and he brought her back (are you keeping count? That’s two). Well Sammy kept her on a mooring in the harbor off his dock. One night during a storm the “Thrice Mine” decided to go “walkabout” and when Sammy got down to the harbor the next morning all that was left was a frayed mooring pennant floating in the water and no boat. A week later Sammy got a call from the Bahamian Defense Force in Nassau. And guess what, they had picked up the Thrice Mine, off New Providence island almost 100 open sea miles south of Man-a-War Cay. Sammy brought her home and re-christened her the “Thrice Mine.”

After lunch and a good walkabout on Man-a-War we hauled anchor and rode the rising tide into Hope Town on Elbow Cay about 10 miles South of Man-a-War. We need to play the tides going into Hope Town. At dead low there is only about 5 foot of water and Gigi’s Island draws 5.5 feet.

We spent 3 days in Hope Town giving John the “full” tour. As you know from a previous post, Hope Town is one of Gigi and my favorite spots, with its flowers, majestic light house, good food, and secure mooring field. We took John on a Mule ride to Lubbers Quarters and Cracker Ps for lunch and for a walk on Tahiti Beach. Then poked our nose into what G and I call “Turtle Creek” the home of those salty Winner Malone sailing dingys you saw in the last post and...turtles flying around Mule’s bow. Then ended the day with a swim and a snorkel around the point with the bronze sculpture of the little girl doing a cartwheel.

While snorkeling, John and G met a nurse shark. I was swimming back to get Mule to pick them up at the time and missed the experience. By the time Mule arrived John “loud” as how he was ready to get in the boat. Despite the shark John loves Hope Town as much as we do.

On Thursday we slipped our mooring in Hope Town Harbor with the intent of sailing south to Little Harbor and Pete’s Pub. On the sail down we were hailed by some new friends we had met in Hope Town, Rob and Laura Stevenson on Arita - a 50' wooden boat built in New Zealand from a single cowery tree. Rob is from Sidney ( a true Aussy, mate) and Laura is “the Queen of Florida” (or so Rob says). They were nice enough to take the photos of Gigi’s Island under sail. It’s not very often a photographer gets a photo of his (well G’s ) boat under sail. It was very nice for a change.

When we got to Little Harbor there was the surge from hell that made it impossible to put the engine on Mule (The Island can only get in Little Harbor at high tide). We sailed back and anchored in the lee of Lynyard Cay. Rob and Laura anchored near by and brought the photos of the Island over. After a bit of a gam we talked them into joining us for drinks and a movie ...and they brought the movie.

I don’t think I’ve explained how we handle movie nights aboard the Island. Gigi’s computer is set up on the companion-way hatch facing aft, and external speakers attached. That makes room for 4 to 6 folk to see the movie in relative comfort.

We had a great sail back to Marsh Harbor on Friday. The Island and her crew ended John’s “crawl” with an evening at Mangos with Brown Tip and good old “rake & scrape.” John exited the “conch crawl” for the “rat race” back in the States on Saturday. John you are great crew and we miss you.

We made the passage around Whale Cay to Green Turtle on Monday and are currently anchored off New Plymouth, Green Turtle Cay. Today is the ending of one journey (our winter voyage of the Bahamas) and is the beginning of another (our journey home to North Carolina). It is a sad and happy day. With a little luck and good weather, we will make the crossing back to the US late this week or early next week. Our plan is to ride the Gulf Stream as far North as weather will allow and then clear customs in either Canaveral, Fernandina Beach, or Charleston.

Faiwinds & Rum Drinks,

Vic C.

Guana & Elbow Cays - 4/26/2009

2009-04-26T10:59:00.002-04:00

Lucky & The Lighthouse Keeper’s Daughters: 4/19 - 27/2009

4/19/2009 - Marsh Harbor to Great Guana Cay - 9nm.

4/20/2009 - Great Guana Cay to Hope Town, Elbow Cay - 15nm.

Great Guana Cay - Brown Tip’s Rake and Scrape:

It was a hard beat (into the wind) to Great Guana Cay. There is an old sailor’s saying, “Gentlemen do not cruise to weather.” But sometimes there is nothing like a hard beat into the wind to really get your blood going and today was one of those days. It was a great sail and a perfect set up for the rest of the day. The reason for the trip to Guana was “Brown Tip” and his “rake & scrape” group were playing at Grabbers on Guana Cay and both G and I enjoy “rake & scrape.” The second reason was to do some research. Grabbers was supposed to serve the best Mahi sandwich in the islands (they do, by-the-way).

How to describe “rake & scrape?” Well first it is truly a Bahamian invention, it is original. It is high energy with an islands type beat. In “rake and scrape” music percussion (drums, etc.) are replaced by the common ordinary carpenters saw. The teeth of the saw is “scraped” with the back edge of a butcher knife, and the blade is tapped in time as the blade is warped to produce different tones. It is surprising the amount and variations in sound that a common hand saw can produce in the hands of someone like Brown Tip.

Brown Tip and his crew got cranked about 2:30. Brown Tip by day is a diver (boat bottoms, change props that kind of thing) and in the evening he comes alive as an entertainer. He is a long, tall, black, drink of water, with a winning, smile full of brilliantly white Bahamian teeth (The women love him). Give him a little feed back and he turns into a blur of pure energy and music that will make even an old fuddy duddy like me start moving in places I didn’t think could move.

Once the “frozen Grabber’s” started flowing, Brown Tip swung into high gear (see photos). They were dancing on tables, ladies finding them selves mysteriously in the pool, and then Andrew from the Jib Room in Marsh Harbor, showed up wearing a T-shirt and pair of shorts with “peas & rice” written on the cheeks of his ass. Did you ever see those National Geographic specials about alligators where the old bull’s roar under water would cause the water to froth and boil? Well Andrew has a way of “shakin’” his bootie that will cause a T-shirt to do the same “ting.” Gigi was most fascinated. She just sat there and “giggled.” I ordered another “Grabber.”

After supper back on the boat Gigi and I sat watching the anchors lights across the anchorage in Fisher’s Bay wink on and the stars answer in kind set in a moon less sky. It was the perfect end to another great day in paradise.

Hope Town - Lucky and the Light House Keepers Daughters:

Hope Town on Elbow Cay is one of the pettiest of the Abaco islands. It has small narrow streets kept neat and clean, lined with colorful, wood frame homes, set against a back drop of the emerald green of the Sea of Abaco and the blue of the reef speckled Atlantic. The local people are decedents of the Loyalist that fled the States after the Revolution (although they call it a “civil war,” not a revolution). The island reminds me of my Ocracoke Island back home even the old English brogue of the islanders are very similar. They are friendly in nature and always helpful - can you tell I like it here.

One morning on the Cruiser Net, a gentleman named Dave came on during open mic and asked for help burying his neighbor’s dog. We figured that if he asked for help there was a reason. Gigi and I decided we should go - figured there would be a ton of cruisers respond, but as it turned out, no one except us did.

Dave was in his late 60s and his neighbor Mrs. Marie Pender, was in her late 70s. Dave and I dug the grave in her back yard over looking the blue Atlantic and Gigi put her arms around Marie and Miss Mary (her sister) and gave what consolation she could. Marie truly loved Lucky and was quite emotional - Lucky had been her companion for 11 years. Between tears Marie and Mary shared stories of their island with Gigi. Marie and Mary were the daughters of the lighthouse keeper for Elbow Reef Light in the 30s and they both remembered following their dad up the 101 steps to the top to wind the clock like mechanism that ran the light and set the kerosene light ablaze.

Gigi and I had climbed to the top of the lighthouse the day before and taken photos of course. The view is stunning (see pictures). The lighthouse is still lit by a kerosene lamp and still run by the same clock like mechanisms used by Marie and Mary’s dad so many years ago. Lucky was truly a lucky dog to have had Marie for a mistress and Gigi and I feel very lucky to have new friends on Elbow Cay.

That evening we sat in the cockpit having our sundowners and listening to the soothing strains of Pachabell’s Cannon as the lighthouse light was lit, clock wound, and she began her slow rotation with rhythmic flashes in perfect time to the music. I wonder? The sea held the key to all life did it also hold the origins of musical rhythm?

A special event:

On April 22, 2009, in Cary, NC, Gigi’s daughter-in-law, Kristen Perry gave birth to Taylor Faith Perry, 8 lbs,4 oz a healthy baby girl. Congratulations to: Christian, Kristen and Brennan Grace (big sister -2 years old)...and of course to the new “Grandma, Gigi.”

Lubbers Quarter / Tahiti Beach via Mule: 4/23/2009 - 11 nm.

It was a blustery day but it was out of the East. If we stayed in the lee of Elbow Cay we could easily make the run in the dink down to Cracker Ps on Lubber’s Quarters for lunch and do some exploring on the along the way. Cracker Ps is a local pub famous for it’s food and full moon parties (last year I lost my billfold on the way back from one). The Pub was named for a local character named Cracker Pender. Who, legend has it, immigrated in the 1920 to avoid prosecution because he had the misfortune of shooting the sheriff in Washington, GA.

We had a fine lunch. Then made the run back across from Lubber’s Quarters to Tahiti Beach and spent a few hours exploring the beautiful water and pink sand beaches. The shallows are filled with critters, urchins, bone fish, conch (too small to take), and all manner of life. We cruised White Sound, pickup some dingy fuel and started back up the coast hugging the shore of Elbow Cay. In a small cove we spotted a mangrove creek that looked inviting and slowly entered the shallow waters. Just inside the entrance to the cove it widened out to a beautiful, shallow lagoon. Turtles swam just beneath the surface, as if flying in air darting to an fro across Mule’s path. And strung out in front of us like a string of pearl were 4 of the most perfectly restored Winner Malone Abaco Dingys I’ve ever seen (see photos).

As we eased out of the cove on a little point, with steps carved out of the coral stood a bronze life size sculpture of little girl doing a cartwheel(see photo). There appeared to be no way to reach this remote place except by water. Why was is there? We may never know. That’s the thing about exploring if you go look, God or the Bahamas will deliver the surprises.

Monday we are headed for Man-A-War Cay, home of some of the best boat builders in the Bahamas and then back to Marsh Harbor to pick up John Grossenbacher, a friend of Gigi’s, for a week long, island hopping, pub crawl. As the Cracker P says, John, will “leave the rat race and join the conch crawl.”

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

Marsh Harbor to Little Harbor

2009-04-21T11:26:00.001-04:00

Of Blue Fish, Grouper & “*&^% #” Computers: 4/7-16/2009

4/9/2009 - Marsh Harbor to Sandy Cays / Wilson City Ruins: 21nm.

4/10/2009 - Sandy Cays to Little Harbor: 5nm.

4/12/2009 - Little Harbor to Marsh Harbor: 23nm.

Marsh Harbor - Sarah: 4/7/2009

We had been at anchor in Marsh Harbor for a couple of days when a rather water worn Pearson 424 eased into the anchorage. A man of about my age with graying hair set in a pony tail walked forward and eased her anchor over the bow and lay the chain in a very seaman like manner. He was single handing and obviously knew what he was doing. There was something familiar about the gentleman but I was not sure what...

All of a sudden I realize that anchored in front of the 424 was a 41 foot, Rhodes Bounty also built by Pearson. Pearson started building boats in the 1960s and went out of business in the 90s. I had a real opportunity for a great photo (at least from a sailor’s prospective). Here was a fine example of the first very generation of Pearson yachts and one of the last boats they ever produced to be had in one photo. And, Got it!

As G and I went ashore later in the day I gave a glance at the stern of the 424. Her name was “Sarah.” And I was pretty sure it was not just “a Sarah” but “the Sarah.” A few years ago Dale and Corie, friends of mine that had the slip next too me at Matthews Point, had given me a copy of a dvd titled “Sarah’s Atlantic Circle Cruise” - an excellent cruising video done by John Stevenson, the owner. Mule did an about face and we slid up to her stern. The gray haired gentleman came on deck and I asked, “Is this the famous Sarah and are you John.” John gave us a great big toothy smile, laughed and answered ...simply, “Yes.”

We had just made a big batch of chicken soup so naturally we invited him for drinks and supper. John brought wine, books to trade, and copies of his latest two videos. A good evening was had by all swapin’ lies and sippin’ rum. And Gigi and now knew a celebrity plus had a new friend.

Of Blue Fish & Grouper: Sandy Cays: 4/9/2009

We left Marsh Harbor on a mission. We finally had a day that we could snorkel the reefs off Sandy Cays about 21 miles south of Marsh Harbor. Sandy Cays face the mouth of North Bar Channel and are open to the Atlantic Ocean swells and for that reason you need days that are basically flat calm to snorkel their waters. In the Bahamas this time of year calm is rare as the proverbial “hen’s teeth.” Sandy Cays Reef is part of the Land Sea Park System and is protected from fishing or taking of anything but photos and memories. Thus it is as pristine as it gets.

By 2:30 we had anchored “Gigi’s Island” off the ruins of Wilson City in the Bight of Spencer, saddled “Mule” with her engine, and were tying her to a mooring ball off Sandy Cay’s reef. It was a beautiful sun drenched day with crystal clear water. You could see the reef just below the surface but nothing would prepare one for what we were about to experience. As we slid over the side of Mule into the water a forest of stag horn and coral of all variety just explodes into your vision. We were on the wall of a channel with coral, fish, and color as far as the eye can see.

That day we swam with an 8' eagle ray, 2 blue fish of about 80 pounds, a large grouper of yet undetermined specie and when I say large I mean the size of me (it felt like it anyway). Then there were schools of blue tang that just envelope and adopt you into their school. And there was the lone barracuda...we gave him “his” space. It was a day to remember. Gigi and I have been hoping for another calm day so we can sneak back down to Sandy Cays but to no avail.

Little Harbor - Pete’s Pub, Wild Pig, & Computers: 4/10/2009

The “Island” tiptoed her way into Little Harbor at high tide. Little Harbor is one of those places where we have to enter at high tide. The entrance at low water is only 3 feet deep and we draw 5.5 feet. Pete’s son Greg was having a wild pig roast on Saturday I wanted to see how the Bahamian’s do it.

Pete’s Pub is a true open air bar with beach sand for a floor, decorated by Tshirts from all over the world, and memorabilia of all shapes sizes (see photo of a customers cell phone nailed to a support). To boot there are great drinks, great sea food, and good fun. Pete’s dad came to the island in the mid-50s with his family. His dad was an artist working mostly in bronze sculpture. The island has natural limestone caves so he and his family moved into one of them lock stock and barrel and established his foundry above. Things now are a bit more conventional. Pete and his children live in a traditional houses but Pete inherited some of his father’s artistic talents and continues to produce bronzes in addition to running a fine bar.

Pete’s son Greg cooks a mean pig - best I’ve had in the islands. Back home we use hickory or oak to cook a traditional pig for a “pig-pickin’” in the islands they use “buttonwood” to produce the charcoal and add green leaves of the buttonwood tree to make smoke and add flavor, similar to how we add “bay” leaves for the same purpose Downeast. Greg’s sauce is a blend of traditional NC and Georgia kind of vinegar base with a touch of “Jerk” seasonings. The result is mmmmm good.

Sunday morning I switched on the computer to check and see if Gigi was a grandmother again - her daughter-in-law, Kristen, is due any second. The “hateful computer” went through the bios boot but refused to go on to boot the operating system. “Oh! Shuck!”, I said ...or words to that effect.

Would you believe it last year, at Little Harbor, the day before Easter, my computer went belly-up - same day, same time, same place one year later. Lighting (figuratively of course) does strike twice in the same place. We boogied back to Marsh Harbor (only place with a computer doctor) on Sunday and spent Monday running diagnostics and trying to figure out what to tell the “doctor” when Tuesday rolled around (Easter is a Friday and Monday holiday for the Bahamas). By Tuesday night my computer was alive and back in action. This is the second time Abaco Computers has saved my bacon.

Next up is a trip over to “Nipper” for a nip and “Grabber” on Guana Cay for a dose of “Brown Tip’s” rake and scrape.” Somebody’s gotta’ do it.

Fariwinds & Rum Drinks,

Vic

PS- I’ll explain “rake and scrape” next post.
PPS- Kristin is sill hangin’ in there - no grandbaby yet. News at 11:00...

The Fishing Cutter "Gigi's Island"

2009-04-08T08:20:00.001-04:00

The Fishing Cutter “Gigi’s Island”: 4/6/2009

3/25/2009: Highborne Cay to Ships Channel Cay - 9nm.

3/26/2009: Ships Channel Cay to Royal Island - 45nm.

3/31/2009: Royal Island to Lynyard Cay (Abacos) - 61nm.

4/1/2009: Lynyard Cay to Marsh Harbor - 22nm.

Highborne Cay - Italian’s should Stick to Designing Shoes.

Gigi and I spent a few days cleaning the boat and giving her an all over fresh water bath (she had not had one since we left the States in January), finished our provisioning, and “kicked back” to wait weather for our 115 mile trip to the Abacos. Highborne has a number of nice reefs within protected waters so even with the wind howling (and it was) we were able to get in some nice snorkeling. But most of our wait was taken up by readin’, sippin’, and watchin’ the endless parade of Mega-yachts (80' or better) that visit Highborne Cay Marina.

We all know that this is a blog about our sailing adventure and you would not think that it would include any mention of NASCAR but while we were at Highbourne “Wheels” owned by Hendrick Marine Corporation which is a sister corporation of Hendrick Motor Sports, one of the first families of NASCAR, out of Charlotte, NC, was along side at the marina. “Wheels” is a classic Trinity motor yacht in the 150' range. I spoke with one of the ladies in the office at Highbourne and she told me that Wheels comes to Highbourne for one reason–“Grandmother” Hendricks can use Wheels anytime she wants to and her favorite place is Highbourne Cay. You could see “Grandmother” Hendricks sitting regally on the stern watching members of her family on the dock late in the afternoon waiting for the awesome sunsets that were visible at Highborne Cay.

There are Mega-Yachts like “Wheels” then there are mega-yachts... One day this glossy black Italian designed monstrosity named “Daddy’s Seado” came in through the cut, put out her black cloth covered fenders, and “warped” her way up to the dock with bow and stern thrusters. Italians should stick to designing shoes and leave mega-yachts to some one with a sense of propriety. This thing was butt ugly! After docking, her cavernous stern opened and she began unloading all manner of “boat toys” including two glossy black SeaDos. The owner and his son (we think) were off like bullets to jump waves in the cuts and current South of Highborne.

Highborne Cay cut is really a string of shallows with near surface rock strung together by deep channels. The current and waves can be quite “impressive” especially with NE winds at close to 25 knots, which we had. G and I snuggled into a chairs on the beach to watch the show. It became apparent real quick that these folk did not know what they were doing. They were jumping waves that were caused by rock just under the surface. Well it did not take long for the inevitable to happen. The “Owner” came down wrong on one of these “waves” and it threw him into the handlebars on the SeaDo cutting a gash on the inside of his thigh just inches from his artery. He was very lucky. Within an hour a seaplane from Naussa landed in the cut at Highborne and flew him back to Naussa for treatment.

I have nothing but respect for that pilot (see series of photos). He landed that plane in cross wind and current - made my “hynee” pucker just watching. It was quite a show. Gigi learned later that the “Owner” told the Dockmaster, “His hand slipped off the control.” Not! Ignorance and arrogance was what got him.

I don’t know why I have to tell you this tidbit of information but I do... While at Highborne Gigi picked up a trade paper that targeted mega-yacht captains and crew. In it was an article on new yacht construction. The article said that in 2009 the construction of new mega-yachts broke the 1000 barrier for the first time with 1018 yachts under contract a growth of 12% over last year. With the biggest grown in the 150' category (18%). These boats start at $15,000,000 and cost an additional 10 to 20% of the hull value to maintain and operate each year. It makes you wonder doesn’t it - Where Do The Money Come From? And it this is new construction how many of the damn thing are out there plowing the seas as we speak?

We left Highborne for the short sail up to Ships Channel Cay to stage for the run up to Royal Island the next day. We were supposed to have East wind at 15 to 20. We had the East alright but the sail was a little more lively than expected with winds of 25 to 30. By 12:00 Noon we were tucked in and anchor down in lee of Ships Channel Cay. G was headed for a swim - too cold for me after reminding me for the 40th time, “Tell me again why we left the clear warm waters of Sampson Cay?”

Royal Island and The Royal Rape:

Ships Channel Cay is the last of the major islands in the Exuma chain to the North. The sail to Royal would take us across the Yellow Banks, through Flemming Channel out into the Atlantic, and back onto the bank just North of Eleuthera and West of Spanish Wells. The sail north could not have been better - cold but a great sail. But there was a “but.” We would be leaving the Exumas behind and both G and I love the Exumas and already miss their warm gin clear waters.

The Yellow Banks has some of the most beautiful water G and I have experience on this trip. The water is a deep aqua dotted with back coral heads - sort of like black pearls scattered across the banks. We dodged and weaved our way thru the coral and hit Flemming Channel just at change of tide where the “Island” was spat out at 8.1 knots into the 2000 foot deep, navy blue, Atlantic waters. By 3:00 we were entering the cut into the Royal Island anchorage and ready for a “cold one.”

Royal is configured a lot like an “atoll” - a ring island with a lagoon in the middle (see photos). It is, or was, quite beautiful and provides a perfectly protected spot to wait weather for the off shore jump to the Abacos 60 miles to the north and to get in an occasional snorkel and a walk while you wait...or at least it did.

Last year Royal was a lush green island with swimming pool clear water complete with ruins of what had been a majestic old plantation to explore. This year the island had changed. For those of you that did not read my last year’s email on Royal Island, Roger Staback and Jack Nicolas had purchased the island with the intention of developing it. The development was to include an 18 hole golf course (how do you do that on an island you can throw a rock across?). The locals fought it but lost...of course. They were afraid it would kill the reef - the reef that was a major part of their livelihood.

This year the North side of the island had all but been completely denuded. The crystal clear waters were now a murky green from the run off and all construction had been stopped because of the economy down turn. G and I went ashore for a walkabout and found nothing but “rape” at every turn. Once narrow, vegetation lined, roads now were “4 lane” monstrosities that took up a third of the island’s width. The beautiful old ruins of the plantation houses had been dozed into piles of rubble. Royal looked like a rock desert. It made me want to cry.

How could someone do something like this to a beautiful island? Answer: GREED - and greed wins every time. These developers should be lynched by their needle dicks, flayed, covered with molasses, and peppered with red ants. After my first visit ashore I could not set foot on Royal again. It broke my heart.

We sat at Royal for 4 cold days waiting for weather. G’s questions every morning, “Tell me again why we left the clear warm waters of Sampson Cay?

Royal Island to Lynyard Cay (Abacos)
The Fishing Cutter “Gigi’s Island”:

We finally got our weather window for the off shore jump from Royal to the Abacos with SE wind of around 10k and seas of 2' it might not be a perfect sailing day but it would make for an easy passage. Anything out of the E will give great sailing even with 20ks or better but once you get to the Abacos you have to enter the Sea of Abaco thru one of the many cuts and all of which face “eastish.” Winds above 20k out of the N & E produce what are known as “rages” in the cuts and can make them almost impassable. I’ll take a motor/sail anytime if it means passable cuts.

We left at the crack of dawn with little wind and the prospect for no more. We didn’t know it at the time but it was to be a memorable day for Old Vic. By 8:00 the “Island” had made her turn to the N and was far enough off shore to start fishing and avoid catching barracuda. Barracuda like inshore waters but don’t venture far into deep Atlantic waters. So you wait until you reach deep water before setting you lines (sound like I know what I’m talking about doesn’t it...NOT).

I have been trying to catch a Mahi-Mahi (dolphin, the fish) for close to 20 years with not the first hint of even a hit. Today was to be different. Almost within minutes we had a hit that cleared the balloo from the hooks. For the next 4 hours all we did was clear “grass fish” from the lines. I figured if all I was going to do was catch grass I might as well do it on a lure and save the fresh balloo. I had an old lure that Doug Mumford had given me almost 20 years ago that Doug swore would catch Mahi. I tied that on and let it stream aft. At 12:30 about 10 miles off Hole-In-The-Wall on the southern tip of Great Abaco Island I was looking aft when a great whoosh of yellow / green struck Doug’s lure. I had my first Mahi.

I hooked him now what? I had no gaff. Didn’t even have a fillet knife aboard. I drug him to the boat hand over hand (I fish with hand lines) and stared down at him flopping against the side. For a moment, I looked at him and he looked back at me, sumpin’ had to give. Then with one yank, flipped him over the rail into the cockpit sole. I was lucky...but luck counts. Gigi doused him with tequila to “ease his pain” and I skinned him and filleted him with a 4" boning knife (any port in a storm, as they say). Don’t have a clue how big he was but he was a “4 meal fish for 2.” I’m gonna buy a gaff and fillet knife when I get to Marsh Harbor you can bet on that.

By 3:30 the “Island” had made her way thru Little Harbor Cut and were anchored off Lynyard Cay in the lee of the island. We had fish in the freezer and marinating for the evening meal and the traditional anchor’s down drink was in hand. For the first time in a long while Gigi did not ask, “Tell me again why we left Sampson Cay?”

Lynyard to Marsh Harbor:

We had planned to spend a few day in Little Harbor and then move the 23 miles N to Marsh Harbor but the weather gods changed that plan. We awoke to a 25 to 30k S wind. Little Harbor was South and Marsh Harbor was North. We set sail and jibed our way N up the Sea of Abaco to the safe and secure anchorage off the town of Marsh Harbor - Little Harbor will have to wait. By 2:00 we had the anchor down and had made reservation at the Jib Room for “rib night” and rake and scrape music.

Our plans are to hang out in Marsh Harbor until Thursday and then go out and do a little exploring around the Sea of Abaco. What were Gigi's first words to me today? “Tell me again why we left Sampson Cay?” ...And, I do see her point.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

Just Call Me Humphry....

2009-03-23T13:02:00.001-04:00

Just Call Me Humphry...

3/18/2009: Sampson Cay to Shroud Cay - 30nm.

3/20/2009: Shroud Cay to Highborne Cay - 14nm.

Shroud Cay:

After a great sail up from Sampson we settled into the mooring field at Shroud Cay. Shroud is part of the Exuma Land and Sea Park and has installed a mooring field to protect the sea floor from anchor damage...(and to make a little money to support the Park). Shroud is unique among the cays in the Exuma chain of islands. It is really a number of small cays laced together by mangrove creeks. It is also a nesting area for the White-Tailed Tropicbirds.

As per tradition, G and I settled into the cockpit for “sundowners,” a little music, and a beautiful sunset. A mega-yacht in the 150' range eased into the anchorage behind Gigi’s Island and went to anchor. G immediately became envious. No, not the boat. The treadmill on the foredeck. Poor G she now has “treadmill” envy (see photos).

We were awakened to the staccato “kips”of tropicbirds engaged in their mating dance (see photos). Tropicbirds rarely “talk” (mating is one of the few times) and just as rarely visit land. Mating is the only time they come ashore. What could be better than to start the morning over coffee in the cockpit with a “ballet of mating tropicbirds” to escort the day to life. The dancers are quite graceful with twirls, darts, and dips. The intertwined pairs soar thru the deep blue sky with sword like tails describing sensuous spirals. I never though I’d see this kind of beauty in my lifetime and count myself so lucky. If you are ever around Shroud Cay in the early spring take the time sit and enjoy the “Ballet.”

On the rising tide we were off to explorer one of the mangrove creeks that lead thru the cays that make up Shroud. People had told us about a particular creek near the North end of Shroud that leads all the way thru to the ocean side - everyone we talked to said it was a must see. The creek snakes it’s way thru sheer rock and mangrove, in water of yellow to aqua. We did the creek standing in the dink in true cruisers fashion to better distinguish between the yellow shallow water to the deeper aqua. Mangrove are where life begins - it is the start of the food chain and the key to most sea life. This creek was no exception and the creek was alive with small fry of all kind. We felt like Humphry Bogart & Katharine Hepburn in “African Queen” guiding Mule thru the shallow headed for god know whatever lay ahead. As we rounded a little bend, there in front was the deep blue waters of a cut less than 50 feet wide leading to the ocean. The pictures can not do it justice. This is one of the most beautiful places on god’s earth.

We took Mule thru the cut and there, spread out in front of us, was the deep deep blue of Exuma Sound (ocean), ringed by small cays and reefs, and set in an aqua blue green sea. I will say it again, this is one of the most beautiful places on god’s earth. The beach is of the finest white sand and not a footprint in sight. It was as if we were the only two people on earth and had just discovered “Eden.”

We eased Mule back thru the cut and beached her. Then walked the beach leaving all evidence of our existence to be erased by the incoming tide. The water was so beautiful G could not resist its call. She walked to the end of the sandbar extending across the mouth of the cut, jumped in, and was gently carried by the current back thru the deep blue swift moving waters of the cut into the shallow languid aqua of the creek (see photos). This, my friends, is a special place.

Shroud is one of those places where a month would not be enough time to explore it properly but unfortunately a blow was coming and it was time for us to move on in search of better shelter. We had intended to spend a day or so anchored off Normans Cay (X-home of the X-drug lord Carlos Lehder) and do a little snorkeling around some of the planes scattered around the waters south of Normans but as I said, a blow was coming. We decided to push on to Highborne Cay and go to anchor off the West side of the island. The Island had not been at a dock in close to 2 months, she needed a bath and we wanted a real standup shower with hot water. Not-to-mention, Highborne Cay marina is a great place to sit out a blow. The next morning we moved in to the lap of luxury Bahamian style - dock life.

We will be here until Wednesday morning and then move back out into the anchorage. It looks like Thursday or Friday will give us a weather window to move up to the Spanish Wells / Royal Island area to stage for the 50 mile jump off shore to Abacos.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

Black Point / Big Major Spot / Sampson Cays

2009-03-18T07:44:00.001-04:00

Laundry / Green Flash / Thunderball / & Flying Dog :

3/9 &10/2009 - Black Point Settlement.
3/11- 15/2009 - Big Major Spot (near Staniel Cay): 11 nm.
3/15 - 18/2009 - Sampson Cay: 5 nm.

Black Point Settlement:

Black Point was “Marathon Laundry Day,” note the capitol letters. It had been 5 weeks since we did laundry. Gigi spent most of the day at Ida’s Laundry Mat and Beauty Salon. Where else can you do laundry in a spotless coin operated laundry (unusual for the Bahamas) and get your hair done at the same time? And, it includes a view of the whole harbor. With a bar across the street with one of the best pizza’s in the Exumas and an internet café next door. However, some “girlie” things just can’t be done in a conventional laundry as can be attested to by the photo.

After laundry G and I settled into sundowners and supper in the cockpit of the “Island.” Black Point anchorage is like Cave Cay it looks West to the open expanse of the Banks with nothing but water to the horizon. The sky was clear and we were again in green flash territory. We waited and held our breath. For the second time, we witnessed one of natures true phenomena, a green flash and all it’s glory.

Big Major Spot, Near Staniel Cay:

Big Major Spot is the home of “pig beach” and home of the famous swimming pigs of the Exumas. Gigi saved our leftovers and we headed for shore. The pigs are quite tame and do swim out to the boat but, unfortunately not ours. As you can see from the photos one of the pigs was quite taken with “Mule.” Mule immediately insisted we take her to deep water and safety. She escaped unharmed with “virginity” in tack.

Staniel Cay actually has 3 stores: Isles General, the Pink Store and the Blue Store. Thursdays are “Mailboat” days and fresh vegetables day. We needed both propane and vegies so off we went early Thursday to stand in line for groceries at Isles General. Grocery shopping can be quite competitive in the Bahamas - if you ain’t in line when the groceries arrive many times you have to wait until next week. There are traditions that must be upheld before you even lay eyes on the opportunity to purchase.

First, you wait for the boat to be unloaded (swap lies with fellow cruisers until it does). Second, wait for the truck to arrive from the boat loaded with groceries for Isles General (swap lies with fellow cruisers until it does). Third, help unload the truck. Forth, wait for the employees to stock the shelves (swap lies with fellow cruisers until they do). Fifth, remove said groceries from freshly stocked shelves in an absolute feeding frenzy. Then purchase your “prizes” at “island” prices” (about 30% more than US prices). It ain’t the US but is all part of the fun and charm of the Bahamas.

After competitive grocery shopping it was time for some fun. We treated our selves to lunch at Staniel Cay Yacht Club Restaurant (quite good) and then were off to snorkel Thunderball Grotto at low tide. Do you remember the underwater cave scenes from the James Bond movie Thunderball? Thunderball Grotto is where those scenes were filmed. Basically, Thunderball Grotto is a small cay located between Big Major Spot Cay and Staniel Cay. It is a hollow island that you can swim right thru, it is surrounded by reef and is touted as one of the best snorkeling spots in the Bahamas. It is best to snorkel it at slack low water to minimize the current and maximize the entrance.

The entrance to the Grotto has about 1 foot of clearance at low water. You ease yourself into the crystal clear water and are immediately surrounded by fish of all sizes, shapes and colors. A school of Sargent Major fish just adopts you into their school. As you swim under the entrance and under the dome of the island light filters in through a hole in the top of the grotto and gives the water an iridescent emerald green cast. All I can say is WOW! Then you slowly drift thru the island and out the other side and snorkel one of the most perfect reefs Gigi and I have seen with coral of all shapes and sizes. I was especially taken with the tube and vase sponges. There was one vase sponge that was a soft lilac and purple that almost had an inner glow of light - quite beautiful. On the way back around we met a needle fish that had bitten off more than it could chew. He was swimming on the surface with a fish about half his size in his beak and seem to be in a quandary about how to make dinner with what he had just caught.

Gigi and I drifted Thunderball twice and spent close to 2 hours in the water. Two hours is pushing the limit with no wetsuit to protect you from the cold. There is only one word that describes Thunderball Grotto...WOW! We will be back.

Sampson Cay:

We had a wonderful sail up from Big Major Spot to Sampson Cay. Sampson is one of the best spots to tuck in for a blow. It is a good spot to re-provision. It has a good restaurant and the fastest WiFi around. Plus we had a minor reunion with old friends - Shirley & Mac on “Cat’s Paw” and Lou, Allison, & Caroline on “Ally Cat”.

Gigi cleaned and I uploaded photos and finished the blog. Then we were off “conching” in Pipe Creek - much fun and a hammering of a dingy ride, not so much fun. On the way back we saw a flying dog. One of the dinks had a golden retriever named “Gunner.” When we rounded Pipe Creek Cay onto the banks the waves launched Gunner out of the dink - he looked like he had learned to fly (at least for a short while). Gunner took it in stride and his masters picked him up. Then it was back to Sampson and a conch cleaning frenzy. We all gathered at a friend’s cabin and Miss Shirley’s grilled conch. Mmmmmm!

After supper as we ambled back to the dock we saw the Space Shuttle entering the atmosphere. It was an eerie and spectacular sight. The shuttle actually makes it’s own “cloud” that seems to glow.

The next day took us back to Pipe Creek for a snorkel and a swim. Most of you have heard of “lobster walks.” Well G spotted a “conch walk.” There was a swath of young conch tightly packed about 20 feet wide and stretching for almost a hundred yards. They all were headed “somewhere” at a steady but slow conch pace.

This was also the first time I’ve ever swam with cuddle fish (squid). They were about a foot long with eyes the size of silver dollars. A male / female pair were swimming off to the side of the school and the female was “flashing” subtitle but unmistakable color changes at the male friend - guess I know what she had in mind.

Tomorrow we will leave Sampson and head for Shroud Cay for a few day and then on to Normans to tuck in for a blow. Then up to Royal to stage for the trip off shore to the Abacos. More than likely we will not have WiFi until we reach Little Harbor in the southern Abacos in early April.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

PS - I forgot to give credit for some of the photos in Georgetown to Maril Doster. Thanks Maril the photos are great.

Georgetown - "Slimey"

2009-03-16T09:43:00.001-04:00

“Slimey”

3/9/2009 - Georgetown to Black Point Settlement , 54 nm.

I have been wrestling with this, trying to figure out how to explain Georgetown ever since we arrived on Friday, February 13th ...and I still don’t know. My first impressions were mostly negative colored with a bit of dislike. That faded to miss understanding. By the time we hauled the Island’s anchor and headed back North to Black Point Settlement it had settled into “just not my cup of tea.”

“Georgetown” is really just a minor part of what is “Elizabeth Harbor” - a harbor approximately 10 miles long boarded on the West by Great Exuma Island and the East by Stocking Island, Elizabeth Island, and Fowl Cay. In an easterly blow all the boats snuggle up to the shore of Stocking and dingy ashore in relatively calm seas. When the winds blow out of the West they re-anchor on the Georgetown side for shelter from the wind and wave.

While we were in “Georgetown” the community of boats numbered almost 300 boats (a normal year will see 500 or more). The community here is very organized. There is yoga, volley ball, poker, swimming, classes in marine electronics, HAM classes, not to mention miles of trails an beaches to walk or dingy too. There is always something going on at Volley Ball Beach and Chat and Chill, a local bar. While we were in Georgetown everything was focused on “Regatta,” the 29th annual cruising boat regatta, with “happenings” for almost 2 weeks.

Opening ceremonies included a variety show (talent not required and actually discouraged), pet parade (see photos of the long haired dachshund that was “grand marshal”), a parade of boats, “coconut challenge” (700 coconuts dumped in a small bay with teams of 4 in dinks with 1 oar and 1 swim fin - object to collect the most coconuts) and of course sailboat races.

The highlight of the pet parade was two young girls that entered their new found “pets.” A little 3 year old had a conch on a lease named “Slimy” that she drug around the sand and her older sister with a hermit crab she paraded across the stage. They only took honorable mention...but should have won the whole damn thing in our opinion.

The highlight of our stay in Georgetown was a visit from Mike and Maril Doster. They were, are just plane fun to have around and great boat guests. I was worried that Maril might not be able to handle “dingy life” especially with the cold temps and East winds blowing a blustery 20 to 30 knots. She did great and even got to the point she stood in the dink holding on to the painter while we were underway (the mark of a true cruiser).

For Gigi and I perhaps the nicest thing that happened to us while in Georgetown was a new friend, Mr. Lermon, “The Dr. of Libation” at Peace and Plenty Hotel bar. The Doc is the uncle of Ida, the beautician that did Gigi’s hair at Black Point. Ida told us to look him up when we got to Georgetown and we did. I took him a photo of his niece and took a photo of him to give Ida when we returned to Black Point. If you are ever in the area be sure and have a drink with the Doc. He is one fine man with his head and heart in the right place.

Maril and Mike left on Saturday and (of course) the wind dropped out and it warmed up on Sunday - why is it always that way? We watered up the boat, took on a few provisions at Exuma Markets and prepared to head North for Black Point Settlement bright and early on Monday Morning.

I guess I better explain how water is taken on... It is all done by dink and 6 gallon jerry jugs. We have two so a trip brings 12 gallons to the Island. Georgetown is one of the few places where water is free. Exuma Markets provides both a dinky dock and water just in side Lake Victoria ( see photos of cut thru solid rock that is used to enter the lake). Here you do not even need to leave the dink for water, you just cue up, fill up, and make the mile run back to the boat to unload the water. We took on 48 gallons.

Monday provided an almost perfect sail up Exuma Sound and thru Dothum Cut off the end of Great Guana Cay and Black Point Settlement. Entering the cut reminded me of why I love the upper Exumas Cays North of Georgetown so much. The is a beautiful aqua, 30 feet deep, and so clear you could see red starfish on the bottom. We were back “home” where the water is fit to snorkel again. In the Georgetown area the waters are just not as clear and reefs are in poor shape with few fish. Maybe that was my biggest complaint about Georgetown other than the over organization is the lack of clear water with live reefs.

It’s good to be back North. Gigi has already gotten her hair cut at Ida’s and all is right with the world.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

Escaped Paradise: 2/18/2009

2009-02-18T09:26:00.001-05:00

Escaped!

2/05/2009 - Cambridge Cay to Sampson Cay: 17 nm.

2/11/2009 - Sampson Cay to Blackpoint Settlement: 13 nm.

2/12/2009 - Blackpoint Settlement to Cave Cay: 17 nm.

2/13/2009 - Cave Cay to Georgetown, Sand Dollar Beach: 40 nm.

Sampson Cay:

Bell Island waved geysers of white fingered spray as we swept past driven by a strong Northeast wind with a touch of incoming current. It was if she were cheering the Gigi's Island on and wishing us many return visits. We had finally escaped the winsome clutches of Cambridge Cay (aka. Little Bell Island). The Island’s crew has also finally gotten use to sailing in 20 plus knots of wind and the Banks gave us a great sail down to Sampson Cay Marina.

Our plan was to go into the Marina, do laundry, do some re-provisioning, wait for the coming blow to pass and then move on to Blackpoint Settlement in a day or so. As Borat would say, “Not!” The winds would keep us pinned to the dock 6 days until we finally just left. And..., the “Mailboat” had not come for the last 2 weeks so no groceries. Farmers Cay has “the Five Fs Festival” every year (First Friday in February At Farmers Cay Festival) and all supplies for the entire Exuma chain of islands were delivered to Farmers and none to the other islands - so no groceries. And the Mailboat scheduled for the next Tuesday was going to be a few days late (translation: some day in the next week or so).

Sampson is a great place to wait out a blow so we “honkered” down for the duration. Mac and Shirley on Cat’s Paw (actually not a catboat) invited us to go conching with them up island in Pipe Creek. Mule hugged the western edge of the string of small cays that lead into the sandy flats and aqua and deep blue shallows that make up Pipe Creek. Having a big dink with large motor really does extend your range and ability to enjoy an area - Pipe Creek is almost 5 miles from Sampson and Mule ate up the miles with no problem (a little “damp” but no problem).

We spent a pleasant day wandering the flats and shallow waters looking for conch. It took about 2 hours to take our limit (6 conch per boat). Then it was back to the marina to clean them - now that is an experience. First you knock a small slot between the 2nd and 3rd ring of spikes on the conch. Then take a small knife, reach in and loosen the animal’s grip on his shell. Then pull the conch out by his foot (pliers help). Now the hard part, cleaning the critter (others may “clean” but I “butcher.” Old Vic’s not good at this). I won’t describe this because it is not a pretty picture. What you end up with is a pure white meat. Conch that is cooked must be “tenderized” first (beat the hell out of it with a meat mallet) and Shirley was going to make garlic sauteed conch over rice for our supper so we “tenderized.” What other critter will give you supper and a musical instrument at the same time. Gigi’s Island now has 3 shells that will be made into horns.

We all met aboard Pretty Penny, a power cat out of Virginia, for a meal and gam that could not be beat with each boat contributing a dish. By-the-way John Holmes and Gene Edwards, one of the guys at supper knew Alan Carr from Sparta. He used to work in the Georgia National Guard, and had the unfortunate job of having to tell the Sparta Guardsmen that the unit was being shut down. Man it’s a small world.

Blackpoint Settlement:

This is without a doubt one of our favorite places in the Exuma chain. Blackpoint is a true Bahamian town. The school children are extremely well mannered. You never pass school colored, dressed, children that they don’t say “Good morning Sir” or “Good afternoon Mam.” Maybe it has to do with the switch I saw in the hands of one of the teachers. It appears that discipline is still a practiced art in the Bahamas.

Gigi got her hair cut here sitting out back of the laundry over looking the bay - what a view (great relief for me too, I was supposed to do the job). Ida, the beautician, as it turned out was the niece of a Mr. Lemon, the “Dr. Of Libation” at the Peace & Plenty Bar in Georgetown. She sent us on our way with regards for the good Doctor. We were to deliver it in person 3 days later.

Then there is Loraine’s Café. She offers the best food in the Bahamas, her Mom at 80 something still makes coconut bread and it’s to die for. She also offer internet service, and (best of all) her friendship. And if you are starving for pizza the DeShaMon has one of the best I’ve ever put in my mouth including the “States.” Gigi and I will return Blackpont on the way north and maybe do a little community volunteer work. In my mind, Blackpoint is the heart of the “Family Islands.”

Cave Cay:

The next day we sailed down and wiggled our way past the anchorage at Cave Cay and eased on down to Cave Cay Cut just to get an idea of what to expect for our exit into the sound the next morning. The answer was... impressive current! The cut in narrow but deep and easy to read (remember there are no markers on any of the cuts in the Bahamas). When the Island did her pirouette to return to the anchorage the boat speed dropped to 2.3 knots and continued decreasing. At full cruising RPMs we were just able to maintain 3 knots until the current started to turn us loose behind the island. We picked a spot to anchor about mid way up Cave between Gallot and Cave Cuts and were rewarded with little current and a dropping wind. Then settled in for what was going to be an evening of a lifetime.

We had just finished our first “sundowner” and I was below getting supper started when G called, “Come up and see. This is going to be a spectacular sunset.” I grabbed the camera, took a couple of shots and had just commented to G that, “This was “green flash” territory” - there was not a cloud in the sky and the sun was setting with no obstructions all the way to the horizon. Just as the sun was sucked up by the sea a burst of green light erupted and a spontaneous cheer went up through out the anchorage. I have spent 30 year, ever since I started boating, watching sunsets hoping to see a green flash never really thinking they were real. Cave made G and I true believers and it was worth the wait.

Georgetown:

The next morning was Friday the 13th of February. It is bad luck for sailors to start a voyage on a Friday - any Friday. Friday the 13th has always been bad luck in anyone’s book so this day was a double whammy. However, it was a perfect weather window to exit into the exposed, 2000 foot waters of Exuma Sound and make the 40 mile voyage on the outside to Georgetown.

The winds were around 10 knots and conditions were stable. A good weather window trumps, Friday the 13th any day in my book. We exited Cave Cut at 7:20. The Island had a beautiful sail down the Sound to Conch Cut, the entrance into Elizabeth Harbor and Georgetown. We were at anchor off Sand Dollar Beach, Stocking Island by 2:00 PM. We fished all the way and caught nothing...as usual. However, one line did have it’s lure bitten off so I’m getting better (or is that worse).

Mike and Maril Doster will join us for a week starting the 28th of Feb. And the Georgetown Cruiser’s Regatta begins on the following Monday. More good times are in store for the Island and her crew.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

Photos Udated - 2/5/2009

2009-02-05T16:58:00.001-05:00

Dear Friends,

I just up dated the photos for Cambridge Cay & Compass Cay. The portrait of the good lookin' Bahamian man is Tucker. Tucker is the owner and manager of Compass Cay Marina and the father of 33 children - yes I said 33.

The post is going to be short today. My mind is elsewhere. After 12 days without email, I have just found out one of my best friends, Jeff Hildberg, passed away. Right now I don't want to be in "cruisers paradise" I want to be in Washington with Jeffs family and friend. Jeff was a touchstone for me. He was my friend. I loved and will miss my friend Jeff.

Tonight, I will lift a beer in Jeff's name and send him on his way. But, he will never ever leave my heart.

Fairwinds and Rum Dinks (but tonight beer),

Vic

Tevas

2009-02-04T09:59:00.001-05:00

Tevas:

Cambridge Cay: 1/25/2009 Thru 2/5/2009, 16nm

We tied my, size 12 Tevas to 50 foot of lines, secured them to the dingy, and hove them over the stern of the dink. The line streamed aft in the current with the Tevas as floats for the line. Everything on a boat has to have at least two uses even Tevas.

We slipped over the side of Mule and into water so clear it was like floating in air. The "Sea Aquarium" off the North end of O'Brien's Cay is a snorkels heaven. As the water swallowed us whole a school of Sargent Major fish the size of your hand accepted us into their school. They were so curious that they would individually swim up to your mask and peer "in" to see what type of "fish" you were. There were schools of Horse-Eye-Jack as big as miniature poodles and a rainbow of other fish: purple and yellow Fairy Basslet, Blue Hamlet, yellow and aqua Queen Angelfish, black and yellow French Angelfish, Blue Angel, Gray Angel, Silver Snapper, yellow and blue iridescent Yellowtail Damsel, Blue Tang, Blue Cromis, and yellow, blue and red Scrawled Cowfish, and of course all types and colors of Parrot Fish. Then there were the corals them selves: Tube sponges, Vase Sponge, Sea Anemone, Leaf Coral, Sea Urchin, both Orange and Red Wall Sponge and the most perfect Brain Coral I've ever seen. We spent about an hour in the water just drifting the Aquarium mesmerized by the colors and diversity of life.

And that's not all the Cambridge area has to offer. There are rugged trails thru the bush and over the coral hills between the Banks and Exuma sound. Rugged is the key word with barely enough room for your ankles to pass is spots, and over sharp coral that would be impassable without good shoes. The rewards for those who take the trek are spectacular views from the 60 foot plus hills of the string of islands that make up the Exuma chain embraced by the deep blue waters of the sound and aqua to yellow of the banks.

Then there is the opportunity to give back. We spent two days just helping park folk with projects. Saturday we helped clean up the beach and Monday build a table from driftwood on "Mailbox Cay" - named because there is a mailbox there (rusted shut but there). It is nice being able to give back a little to this beautiful place. Tuesday we partied down (had to field test the table we built). The Park director supplied the ice as a "thank you" for the help.

One story:

New friends on "Lady Galadril" just in from the Ragged Island lost their dink while there. It drifted away while they were ashore sharing a bonfire with fellow cruisers. Being "dinkless" puts you at a decided disadvantage. It is your truck, your means of boat to boat and shore to boat transportation. It is an essential piece of gear. By the time they got to Cambridge Cay, the USCG had contacted them. They had picked up their dink in the Gulf Stream off Cape Canaveral - about a 400 mile drift. It will be waiting for them when they return. Miracles happen.

We hope to be in Sampson Cay in a few days to do some minor re-provisioning. I'll publish the photos of Cambridge then.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

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Success!

2009-01-27T09:06:00.001-05:00

Success!

Warderick Wells to Cambridge Cay: 1/25/2009, 16 nm.

We left Warderick Wells on Sunday planning to go into Cambridge Cay for a few days. Getting there is a bit tricky. It was one of those damned if you do damned if you don't kind of things. Piloting is visual 100% (the charts in Raymarine stuff is poor and not based on the Explorer Charts like most are today - but that is no excuse for running aground).

For those of you considering the purchase of a chartplotter, some of the Navionics charts of the Exumas have way too much info (all contour lines so cluttered you can't tell what is where) and some have almost no info and just block out the island in sort of rough form. If the plotter you are considering uses Navionics Charts you might want to consider something different. The Raymarine charts for Cambridge / Bell Cays are like the latter (just an outline of the island, kind of thing).

To get into the anchorage at Cambridge, you have to snake your way thru the shallow water around Bell Island (East). Follow the deep blue water out the cut and back to Cambridge (west). The rub is you get good visibility either going east or west not both. We figured it was tighter around Bell (yep true - maybe a 50 foot wide cut of deep water) and then back into the sun for the short run back west to Cambridge Cay. With the sun in your face you can't see the bottom and tell where the deep water is.

Well Old Vic didn't hug the shore of Cambridge close enough. Bumped (read ran aground), spun the boat, got off, and waited for a dink off "Movin' On" to confirm that close to shore was right (lead us in). It took 1452 miles to run this bitch aground but I finally succeeded.

On Monday the Park Service arranged for Tucker, the owner of Compass Cay Marina, to pick us up and ferry us over to Compass Cay for lunch and a walk around. Tucker is a great guy and has spent the last few years improving his marina. It is quite unique. Tucker is considering having a "Stupid Bowl" party on his dock complete with transportation from the Cambridge anchorage to Compass and back and lobster appetizers. If he does we may just hang around here until Monday. There is plenty to do and see here and the water is truly "gin clear." There are some of the best snorkeling in the Bahamas with Rocky Dundas Grottos, Sea Aquarium, and Coral Garden. Not to mention, this is a good place to sit out the next westerly blow coming on Friday.

This post is via SSB email and therefore no pictures. Someone drop me a note and let me know if the post works.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

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Reginold....

2009-01-24T13:21:00.003-05:00

Reginald...

Warderick Well, North Mooring Field, Exuma Land / Sea Park: 01/18-25/2009, 31nm
We grabbed a very narrow weather window on Sunday the 18th and sailed down (yes actually sailed for a change) to Warderick Wells in the rain. It was either wait at Highborne 3 to 4 more days or go...and it was getting expensive. Luckily we missed the waterspout that went thru Wardwick a couple of hours before we arrived.

By the way, the folk at Highborne have a rather twisted sense of humor. There is a sign at the top of the island that reads,"bus stop." Of course there is no bus, to stop. The island is only 3 miles long - who would need a bus. The map of the island also lists a "spring." There are signs along the paths that crisscross the island that actually lead you to said “spring.” When you get there it is an old bed spring tied in a tree. What a hoot!

I'm beginning to get used to reading the water and to trust my judgment a little more (read: my asshole ain't puckered near as tight entering tight channels between islands). Every where we go I say, "It can't get any prettier than this and it does” as the photos attest. Warderick Wells north mooring field (no anchoring this is a coral park after all) sits in a crescent of deep blue water between the island and the aqua and yellow of the sand flats. It is protected on the east by Warderick itself and west by numerous small Cays and sand flats. The next 2 days brought that “big blow” out of the west we were expecting. For those of you planning to pass this way this is a great spot to sit out a westerly blow.

The island is full of wild life and most of it quite tame. The Banana Quit (3" small bird) are so tame they will eat right of your hand. I never see friendly small birds that I don’t think of my Mom. She would have loved this place and especially the Banana Quit. G is beginning to get pissed with them coming into the cabin to “explore” and “evacuate” (their bowels). It has turned into sort of war of wills and I’m not sure who is winning.

The last few days have been “cool” for the Bahamas (mid-60s) and has really limited our search for good snorkeling spots. We finally found a small reef near Emerald Rock with an abundance of sea life including a school of Silver Snapper and couple of huge Nassau Grouper. I expected to see lobster the size of small tanks but am yet to see any of any size. The reefs around Alan’s and Highborne Cays were more diverse and healthier than the Warderick Wells area.

Warderick Wells is full of trails over pot-marked sandstone - sort of like walking on swiss cheese with the hole edges like turned up knife points. Good walking shoes are a must. The “trails” are marked by cairns (small piles of stone). Without them you would loose all sense of direction. For those of you familiar with the Tampa / St. Pete area of Florida you will remember the “Sunshine Causeway Bridge.” Tampa and St. Pete have nothing on Warderick Well. They have a “Sunshine Causeway Bridge” too (see photos).

At the top of “Boo Boo Hill” is a cairn built out of boat markers and of course we added ours to the list of folk that had made the climb. Boo Boo Hill got it’s name because it is haunted. Around the turn of the last century supposedly a ship load of “missionaries” were lost on the reef. Today, if you walk to the top of the hill on a rising full moon you can hear the ghosts of the missionaries singing hymns. Unfortunately we were not here around full moon. Maybe next year or on the way back North we’ll be able to verify the legend.

G was snorkeling around the boat a couple of days ago and noticed a tail extending in a vertical orientation down below “Islands” keel. We figured it was probably a Barracuda that was using the boat for protection, but we were wrong. It was Reginald, at least that is what we named him. “Regie-Mon” is a 4 foot Remora. You know the fish that attach themselves to sharks and live off the tidbits his shark strews about at dinner. Regie had found an alternate lifestyle. He hangs out under boats and lives off their “leftovers.” Regie is quite tame. I wonder if he will follow us when we leave Warderick Wells?

Tomorrow, after a beach pot luck here tonight, we will head down to Cambridge Cay (Little Bell Island) and spend a few days exploring and snorkeling. Cambridge is near an area called “the Sea Aquarium / Coral Garden.” Can’t wait. Until next time.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

Allan's & Highborne Cays 2009

2009-01-16T13:08:00.001-05:00

Nassau to Allan’s Cays & Highborne Cay:

Allan’s Cays: 1/10-13/2009, 35nm.

We finally got a “weather window” to cross the Yellow Banks to Allan’s Cays (not a good one but it would do - 10k on the nose...again). The Yellow Banks are called the “Dreaded Yellow Banks” for a reason, because for about 3 miles the water is shallow and strewed with coral heads. As it turned out it was not so bad - me on the bow “pointing” and Gigi steering. The heads are very visible and easy to dodge as long as the sun is high. I would not want to even think of doing this passage after dark.

By 3:30 we had the anchor down snuggled up to the west side of Alan’s Cay with a gentle East wind blowing. We were in the “real” Bahamas at last with Nassau, the dirty, busy, crime and politician filled Capitol in our wake. Allan’s is really a series of small Cays that run roughly North South with Allan’s to the East, Leaf to the West and SW Allan’s to the South with an anchorage in between Alan’s and Leaf and a very small anchorage almost in the cut between the Islands just North of SW Allan’s. The anchorage when we arrived was quite full so we just snuggled up to the Western shore of Alan’s instead of trying to worm our way into an already tight anchorage.

In settled weather this place is paradise. The water is crystal clear with plenty of beautiful healthy reefs for snorkeling. Leaf and SW Allan’s have two sugar sand beaches both white as bleached bone. And of course, they are the home of one of the few remaining colonies of native rock iguanas left in the Bahamas. They are quite tame. As soon as you land a dink on the beach they stream out of the bush expecting food (see photos). There is even a boat that brings tourist over from Nassau daily to feed them. It is a “sight”. The boat pulls into the lagoon, blows its horn and the iguana pour out of the bush even before they land.

The wind had picked up by the second day we were at Allan’s, 3 Canadian boats left the anchorage, and we moved inside the lagoon for better protection. Then we were off in Mule for a bit of snorkeling. The reefs are shallow so all you really have to do drift and look. It is like swimming in an aquarium. G filled 2 pages of her notebook when she got back with species of fish and coral we saw - she was in haven. We would probably be there still if a series of cold fronts not was moving in and we wanted a more protected place to hold up. Allan’s is a good place for settled weather but it is a “tight” anchorage and the boat in front of us by morning had already drug his anchor a bit. It was time to go.

Highborne Cay: 1/13/2009, 5.6 nm.

There are very few “all weather” anchorages in the Exumas and many of them are in the cuts between The Great Bahamas Banks and Exuma Sound. We elected to take a slip at Highborne Cay Marina and sit out the weather there.

A word about the “cuts”... First there is always current and they are narrow. I am going to try and describe entering Highborne Cay Marina to give you a feel for what navigating these cuts are like. The Marina is set in a small harbor on the south end of Highborne. You enter thru a narrow (verrrrry narrow - 100 feet or less) cut between Highborne Cay to the North and Oyster Cay to the South. Because of the current and the tiny opening the water stays churned up as if a hundred power boats had just crisscrossed the area. The water color varies from yellow (sand and shallow) to deep blue (20 feet or more) with in a few feet of each other. You literally have to almost put you starboard side on Oyster Cay to stay in deep water. Immediately on entering the lagoon you hang a hard right, line up a couple of range markers and throw the coal to the engine to keep the current from pushing you into a reef before you make the harbor’s breakwater. Once inside everything is calm. I suspect I’ll get use to “cuts” in time but for now, 3 days later my heart is still pounding.

Highborne is a gorgeous island, white sand beaches, healthy reefs, and peopled by helpful, friendly folk. It was one of the first islands inhabited by Loyalist after our “Civil War” (what they call our Revolution). There are still ruins of those early homes sprinkled all over the island. It is an Island to walk and explore. An island to sit and read. An island to snorkel and swim. An island with a few surprises and sites we would have missed entirely if the weather had not nudged us in here.

First the harbor has “pet” shark, snapper and rays and no fishing is allowed in the harbor. Yesterday we walked down to the fish cleaning station near the jetties and saw our first shark feeding frenzy. A group of approximately 20 nurse shark, lemon shark, and reef shark were dining on the leftovers from wahoo that were being cleaned. One of the fishermen put a wahoo carcass on a line and commenced to “tease” them with it (see photos) - the water was boiling with hungry shark. I saw one lemon shark literally clear the water to “sample” the wahoo.

Each morning we have had guests for coffee. When we move out into the cockpit ruddy turnstone (shore birds) and small black grassquit (verio type birds)come begging. They are so tame they even came, looked down in G’s coffee cup, and then give her the “this ain’t eatable” look.

On the western shore of Highborne Cay lies a reef that is quite unique and ancient. Stramatolites are some of the earliest forms of life on earth dating back over 3 billion years. Until the early 80s they were thought to be extinct. Since then living examples of these reefs have been found off the coast of Highborne and a few other Cays in the Exuma chain. They look sort of like flat top mushroom of enormous size. They are quite impressive (see photos).

Yesterday evening late, a Catalina 34 pulled into the slip next to the Island. I said to myself, self, that boat looks familiar. It was my New Zealand friends, Carl and Penny, that Mike and I met last year at Bimini and cruised with to Royal Island. Carl makes the best sangria I’ve ever put in my mouth. Friends come and go but the next anchorage may bring another reunion, cocktails, and time to catch up on each other’s lives since last our paths crossed. That’s cruising and one of the reasons I love this life.

Tomorrow is a pig roast on the beach and then (hopefully) we will be headed south to Warwick Wells, home of the Bahamas Land / Sea Park for some serious snorkeling.

Tell next time....

Fairwind and Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

No Name Harbor to Nassau

2009-01-09T09:50:00.001-05:00

Five to Ten, My Ass!

1/05-06/2009 - No Name Harbor to Nassau, Bahamas - 167nm, 27hours

After 3 “aborts” we got what we felt was a good (well acceptable) weather window for a crossing of the Gulf Stream to Nassau. Chris Parker (the weather guru) was calling for 5 to 10 knots out of the East. East would put the winds right in our face but there was no north in it to make for nasty seas in the Gulf Stream and it would be light enough Gigi’s Island could push into it with little problem. We calculated it would take us from 28 to 30 hours to reach Nassau and we wanted to hit both Great Bahama Banks just North of Bimini Island and the entrance to Nassau Harbor in daylight. Leaving No Name about 7:00 AM would give us what we wanted. As it turned out we did better than our predictions...but Chris did worse.

Luckily, our weather guru had it pretty much right for the Gulf Stream so, once off sounding, the seas settled down to a steady 2 to 4 foot chop that the Island handled well. We hit North Rock Light, just north of Bimini and came on the banks about 3 in the afternoon with plenty of light to be sure we were not going to hit any coral heads and settled in for a night crossing. The water color changes gradually as you come on soundings from the deep navy blue of the 2000 foot open ocean water to the 20 depths of beautiful aqua sprinkled with dark green in patches of grass. I wish I could describe it properly for those of you that have not had the experience but it is impossible to do it justice.

We were in 20 feet of water, no other boats in sight, and the water and cloud dotted sky are astoundingly beautiful. Gigi was in love. She wanted to stop at every patch of floating sargasso weed and jump in the water to see what was underneath - of course I wouldn’t let her (at this point I was a bit of a “party pooper” in her eyes).

By 11:00 PM we were just past Mackie Shoal about 2/3s of the way across the Banks. The three-quarter moon had just set with a burst of reds and oranges thru a western scattering of clouds. We were in a dark lit by stars alone. You would be surprised how bright that can be with the absence of light pollution from so called “civilization.” Gigi was on watch and noticed a power boat gradually over taking the Island. As she swung wide to give us a “more pleasant passing” we heard this distinctive Eastern North Carolina accent hail us on the VHF. The 94 foot yacht “Cimarron” was bound for Nassau just like us (and was quick to point out he would be there in a couple of hours). It’s captain was from Hertford, NC, and friends with Willie and Feather Philips old friends of mine. Willie used to fish crabs in the Bath area when I first met them before his family moved to Hertford. And Feather was a budding artist with the prettiest violet eyes I ever saw. It is truly a small world.

By 1:00 AM on the 6th, the winds had built to 15 to 20 out of the east, dead on the “pointy end” of Gigi’s Island and the Island was hitting the waves pretty hard. The Island was slammin’ and bangin’ as she dropped off the face of the waves - 5 to 10 my ass! For you non-sailors, these conditions are not a problem or life threatening in any way just uncomfortable, especially for 63 year old farts that don’t recover as quickly as we did in our younger days. Chris Parker blew this one. It was supposed to be 5 to 10 and an easy passage. By 10:00 AM, after pounding our way across the NW Providence Channel and acquiring permission to enter Nassau Harbor from Harbor Control we were tied up at Nassau Harbor Club with a “cold one” in hand - 27 hours, not bad for 167 miles.

This passage presented Gigi with a lot of firsts:
• First ocean passage
• First night passage
• First sunrise, sunset, and moonrise and moonset at sea
• First time to stand a watch on her own (she was nervous as the proverbial “whore in church” but she did great)
• First crossing of the Gulf Stream
• First time to the Bahamas in her own boat
• And not insignificant, first time to sleep underway

We plan on leaving here on Saturday headed for Alan’s Cay, home of the Bahamian iguanas. Until next time...

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks

Vic & Gigi

No-Name Harbor - Bill Baggs State Park

2009-01-02T14:34:00.004-05:00

It Was a Tight Anchorage But Doable....

No-Name-Harbor, Key Biscyne, FL - 12/31/2008 thru 1/3/2009:

Gigi’s Island sits in No-Name-Harbor, a small secluded anchorage inside Bill Baggs State Park on Key Biscayne. When we made the decision to “abort” the passage to Nassau for the second time we noticed a couple of boats exit the harbor and decided to stick our noses in for a look see. It was tight by Marsh Harbor standards but still doable since the harbor offers all round protections from wind, swell and (most importantly) boat wakes.

Cuban machismo, is definitely alive and well in Miami. Don’t get me wrong the Cuban people (Miami) are wonderful one-on-one and their food is superb. But put a Cuban behind the wheel of a car or and boat and common courtesy goes out the window. There is no such thing as a “slow” and courteous pass, and a full throttle run thru a packed anchorage throwing a huge wake only feet off your stern is to be expected. No-Name-Harbor offered limited potential for “speed” and “wakes” and was very appealing after getting our butts waked off for couple of days.

We had been at anchor a couple of hours when the “Miami Crazies” or should I say “Cuban Crazies” showed up and added another 50 or so boats to an already crowded anchorage (most would not stay the night - thank god). It was New Years Eve after all and it was quite a show. Cuban rap blaring off go-fast boats. Dark skinned beauties strutting around in more than skin tight everything. Boats of all size and shape. Then there was this one 30' something go fast boat that pulled up to the waste pump out station, pumped his tank, and commenced to provide us with a real show.

He pumped the wrong tank - his gas tank! Opps! The pump out goes directly to the Key Biscayne sewer system - we have a real problem here.

The Coast Guard showed up. The local police showed up. The park security showed up. The park rangers showed up. And everyone went thru him like the proverbial “dose of the clap.” I expect whole forests of paper were clear cut and god knows how many pens disposed of before this show was over. After about 4 hours of continuous writing and questioning the boat left with one of the US Coasties finest driving the boat and the owner and mate aboard as passengers. I don’t know what happened to them but whatever it was I’m bettin’ it wasn’t gonna’ be pretty.

Speaking of pretty, Bill Baggs State Park is a gorgeous place. The park is open from 8:00 am until “sundown” and they mean “sundown.” Look at the photo of the sign on the website. The park closed the day we were there at 5:41 PM (they are precise if nothing else). Bill Baggs is within a 1.5 miles walk of shopping. There is a nice Cuban restaurant with dingy tie-ups at the end of the harbor. There are miles of nature trails complete with “critters.” Then there is Cape Florida Light. Cape Florida Light was (according to the ranger) the first permanent structure in the Miami area. If you read last years news letter it will give you the storied history of the Light. The Light is open to the public and the view from the top is spectacular. Don’t forget to look at the photos to get the real “picture.”

We are hoping to get a “weather window” to Nassau either tomorrow morning (Saturday) or Sunday morning. ‘Tell then... .

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

Coconut Grove / Dinner Key / Key Biscyne

2008-12-30T11:57:00.001-05:00

Abort! Abort! Abort! 12/30/2008

Well the best laid mice and all that stuff....

We woke at 4:00 AM to the roll of a 10 knot North wind. What don't you want to cross the Gulf Stream....? Answer, any wind out of the North. The stream flows North and with almost any wind out of the North it produces a very ugly wave pattern that is just not conformable.

We elected to sit tight. We will try again tonight. Hopefully, the next post will be from Nassau.

Again, you can follow our progress with the link to Yotreps on the blog. I will attempt to post a new location at 12 noon and 12 midnight.

Fariwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

Here We Go 12/30/2008

2008-12-29T15:37:00.002-05:00

Dear Friend & Followers,

Well we finally have a "window" for crossing to the Bahamas. G and I went out Florida Channel and left GPS "bread crumbs" to follow out tomorrow morning. Our plan is to leave here at between 4 & 5 Tuesday morning, cross the gulf stream and go directly to Nassau - a distance of about 167 nm. Leaving at 4 should put us in Nassau at approximately 12 noon on Wednesday.

I'll try and post a location on Yotrips at mid-night during the crossing and when we arrive.

Fariwinds & Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

PS - Yea, I know I have not written lately. With a little luck and initiative maybe I'll do better...but I could do worse. Time will tell.

A Palm Coast Thanksgiving

2008-12-11T17:34:00.001-05:00

A Palm Coast Thanksgiving: 11/26/08 to 12/2/08

We arrived in Palm Coast for Thanksgiving around noontime after an uneventful trip down the ICW from St. Augustine. Things seemed to be going OK and we were planning to get together with my cousin Tom and his wife Olga later in the afternoon, in the meantime we walked up to the European Village, a courtyard setting in the middle of a high dollar hotel, for some lunch. We had lunch outside at this delightful Italian restaurant, the weather had finally gotten warm enough to do this, and in addition to the warm weather we were serenaded with Christmas songs by Kevon Re’mon’te a local musician.

About 3PM my cousin Tom picked us up and took us to his house which was just a few blocks away where Victor met Tom’s wife Olga who is from Russia. As a matter of fact Tom & Olga are back in Russia at this time so that Olga can spend the holidays with her family and get her mother into a clinic for eye surgery. Around 5PM is when Victor felt sick and decided to lay down for a while, little did we know that this would be the beginning of a cold that would last for the better part of 2 weeks and that I would eventually get it even though I spent days and nights with Tom & Olga while Victor stayed on the boat.

Thanksgiving Day dawned bright and warm and we took Victor back to “The Island” so that he could sleep and read while the rest of us headed for Bill’s, my other cousin’s, house over in Auburndale, FL to celebrate Thanksgiving with him. Let me get away from the story a little and give you a little “family tree” so you can keep up with the story.
My cousin Tom is the son of my mother’s brother Tom and Bill is the son of my mother’s sister Clarissa. Bill is the oldest, early 70's, I am next at 63 and then comes Tom at 62 and we all grew up together in North Philadelphia.
You will be able to tell who Bill is in the pictures as he is the one in leather shorts and shoes from Germany and he is also the one kissing “the bird” Michael. Bill celebrates Thanksgiving in a big way as he gets out a lot of the Christmas items that he has bought on his many trips to Germany and other countries----this is the first year in a long time that Bill did not go to Munich for Oktoberfest. I will also point out that Bill did all the cooking and that he is a fantastic cook and there wasn’t much left–did manage to take a plate back to Victor. It was my hope that Victor would get a chance to meet Bill and also see some VHS tapes that Bill & I had copied from some very old 3-D slides and 8mm movie film that shows my family going back to the late 1940's–maybe next time. I took some pictures of Tom and Olga at Bill’s house and as you can see Olga is a very pretty lady and I am very proud of her as she is now in school to better her English and is doing quite well. The school she is in goes from 9 to 12 five days a week and runs from September to June and it is not that easy.

Friday was another beautiful day with the exception that Victor needed to go to the drug store to get a prescription filled and I needed to get a Flu shot. We took care of that and then took Victor back to the boat and I took Tom & Olga out to lunch in St. Augustine. Later Friday afternoon I went back to the boat to check on Victor, and spend some time with him. Friday night Tom and I spent some time reminiscing about our childhood and talking about our kids, Tom’s son & daughter are almost the same age as my son & daughter.

Saturday was one of those Florida winter days where you just want to walk and that is what I did from my cousins house to the boat to check in on the patient. He was doing better but was still not up to par so he decided to stay on the boat for another day and night. That afternoon Tom grilled out and after a great dinner we had a movie marathon or should I say Tom and I had a movie marathon while Olga “talked” with her friends in Russia via the internet. Tom had gotten Olga a keyboard in Russian which allowed her to communicate better with her friends as all her friends do not know our language.

Sunday was another beautiful day and Tom took Victor and I to the store to add to what was already on the boat and to get the fixings for Victor to cook Tom & Olga one of his wonderful suppers. After supper Tom took Victor and I back to the boat as we planned to leave Monday morning-notice the word “planned”.

Monday dawned windy and chilly and I now had the cold-“go figure”. Several boats came to the marina that day to get out of the cold and windy weather. Tom came by the boat Monday night to pick up a picture of my granddaughter and he also had the beginnings of “the cold”. We finally did leave Tuesday mid-morning as the tide had gone out so much due to the direction of the wind that several boats, “the Island”, included were sitting on the bottom so we had to wait for the incoming tide to get going.

Now, I do not want anyone to think that while Victor was on the boat taking care of his cold I was just “hanging out” with my cousin no that was not the case because at last count I think I did 4 or 5 loads of wash at Tom’s. For those of you who have not cruised doing wash means–you put all laundry into bags, haul it to wherever you are going to do the wash- wash the clothes-dry the clothes- fold the clothes and then haul everything back to the boat and put it away. Victor has warned me that in the islands there is a sport called “competitive laundry” and I for one am looking forward to this new competitive sport as I have not been able to work out in awhile.

I want to finish this story by saying that I had a wonderful time with Bill, Tom & Olga and I hope that when we pass this way again Victor will meet Bill and they can compare their cooking techniques, and that Tom, Bill, & Victor will have time to share a beer or two together.

Fair Winds & Rum Drinks,

Gigi

Palm Coast to Vero Beach

2008-12-11T09:47:00.001-05:00

Palm Coast to Vero Beach, Florida:

12/2/2008: Palm Coast to Daytona Beach Anchorage - 29nm.

12/3/2008: Daytona Beach to Titusville, NASA Causeway Anchorage - 48nm.

12/4/2008: NASA Causeway to Palm Bay - 40nm.

12/5/2008: NASA Causeway to Vero Beach Mooring Field - 25nm.

Gigi’s Island reluctantly left Palm Coast Marina and headed south. Again it was COLD with wind off our stern quarter which made it even colder. We had planned to anchor off Daytona for the night but not spend any time there. The guide books advise locking your dink and everything that ain’t nailed down in the Daytona area so it we elected to give it a pass.

The next day was much warmer...and we had ourselves a convoy. There were at least 8 boats strung like elephants in a circus parade nose to tail, nose to tail. And all in front of us, which in my mind, was a very good thing since 15 miles ahead of was my least favorite spot in Florida - Ponce Inlet. Last year Oconee and I ran hard aground in Ponce. This year we had 8 other boat to show us where not to go. I like it when a plan comes together. As it turned out, it was a non-issue. The inlet had been dredged and it was clearly marked, for a much need change.

We anchored just south of Titusville and used the NASA Causeway to knock down the seas. The Island was in clear view of the entire NASA complex including the maintenance buildings and both shuttle launch pads. You could not of pick a better spot to observe a shuttle launch...if there had been one.

The next day was warm and we had ourselves the long awaited “shorts” weather. In this area of the Indian River the ICW runs beside “a sting of pearls” - small, palm studded, spoil islands strung from Titusville down to Vero Beach. Each island has it’s own designated use and each is unique. By 2:00 in the afternoon, we were sharing an anchorage with a beautiful, old, black hulled schooner behind one of these “jewels” with our traditional anchors down tody in hand.
We didn’t know it at the time, but we were anchored in the “Pelican Island Wildlife Persevere National Wildlife Center.”

We were just settling in for a pleasant evening when the “show” started. Flocks of pelicans, cormorant, turn, heron of various colors, and dolphin, dolphin, dolphin, descended upon the waters around us and the our island. Pelicans rained from the sky scooping up bills laden with fish. Turns filled the sky rolled and dove with bullet precision to skewer dinner. dolphin were everywhere churning the water into a froth. Dinner was served for all (‘cept us).

Just when the frenzy and show was winding down a dolphin mother and calf surfaced and knifed the water directly toward Gigi’s Island. Mother and calf stayed on the surface until they reached the boat and then glided smoothly under our stern quarter. G is convinced that the mother was showing her child a “boat.” I, personally, think neither she nor her little one had ever seen a boat with a “pink flamingo” on the side before and wanted a closer look just to be sure they weren’t seeing things.

The next day took us down what I call “millionaires ally” - house after house that, I’ve been told go for 20 million plus. What a waste.

By noon we were rafted to “Temptation” in the Vero Beach mooring field. Here the Islan has gone 1029 miles to raft to Karen and Earl Quick that we could have stayed home and rafted with almost any time we desired. But that is part of the joy of cruising - short intense reunions with old friends followed by the making of new ones only to move on and away from each other the following day. We hope to see you in the Bahamas Earl. G really enjoyed meeting and doing “girl” stuff with Karen. Soon old friend. Soon.

Fairwinds and Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

Jekyll Island to Palm Coast, FL

2008-12-01T11:10:00.001-05:00

Jekyll Island, GA to Palm Coast, FL:

11/20/2008: Jekyll Island to Fernandina Municipal Marina, FL - 27nm.

11/23/2008: Fernandina to Pine Island Anchorage - 43nm.

11/24/2008: Pine Island to St. Augustine Anchorage - 13nm.

11/26/2008: St. Augustine to Palm Coast Marina - 21nm.

My good friend, John Skemp, has a saying, “Even a blind hog can find an acorn every now and then.” But then adds with a chuckle, “ Whatever that means?”

Gigi’s Island sprung herself off the dock at Jekyll Island and spun ass-end first out into the last of the ebbing tide. We were south bound again, and (for once) with the current was with us - 7 plus knots at 2200 rpms. We rode the last of the outgoing tide all the way to the buoy at the mouth of Jekyll Sound marking the channel between Jekyll and Cumberland Islands. And then, just as the we rounded the buoy the miracle happened, the tide switched and we had current with us again. And the Island rode the rising tide all the way to St. Marys, Georgia, only 7 miles from our destination, Fernandina, Florida. We had put another state behind us and the Island had found her very own “acorn.”

I used to say that Fernandina / Amelia Island, “thought themselves part of Georgia.” The truth is they don’t thing they are part of Florida or Georgia but “an Island apart.” It is the only place in the country that has lived under 8 different flags. The French were first. Hell, the Spanish governed them 3 times. The army of a Mexican revolutionary for a short period. The good old US of A (of course). The Confederate States of America. And some guy from Texas that established himself as an independent state when no one was in charge. It’s no wonder they are a bit different.

And it’s a good difference. The city is friendly, and full of old Victorian and Queen Ann style homes. There are two things that should not be missed (other than the Palace Saloon) if you visit here. First, the Farmer’s Market, held every Saturday. It is as eclectic as the city, with home cooked bread, wonderful local roasted coffee, local spices, BBQ, every manner of fresh vegetables and fruit, and flowers, flowers, flowers. It is an event not to be missed. Second, is the Fernandina Museum. In addition to fact it is a great museum they give a guided tour and lecture on the history of the area at 11:00 and 2:00 every day. To say G and I liked Fernandina would be an understatement.

I’ll leave the Fernandia area with a story. The Island was tied to the inside of the transient dock at Fernandina Municipal Marina (again we wanted HEAT!). I was quietly having my morning coffee when this “hallucination” jogged by. The lady off “Heron” was out for her morning exercise. That is she and her cat on a leash were out for a morning jog. First a cat on a leash, well that’s total indignity for any self-respecting cat and to go jogging at someone else’s bidding? Now I think I’ve seen everything - I’m undone. Must be time to leave cold or no cold.

We made our way down the waterway, with a stop over at Pine Island anchorage, to St. Augustine. I’m not really a St. Augustine fan. It is a beautiful old city, filled with expensive art galleries, and some of the junkiest, junk shops G and I have ever seen. The best thing here is the A1A Brewery that still makes some of the best brown ale I’ve every put in my mouth. We spent a couple of days at anchor in St. Augustine and then moved on to Palm Coast Marina just in time to spend Thanksgiving with Genevra’s cousins Bill and Tom and Tom’s wife Olge. G will be posting a separate blog entry on our Palm Coast stay in a few days.

We hope you all had a great Thanksgiving, complete with lots of turkey, cranberry sauce, but mostly friends, family and large servings of love.

Fairwinds & Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

Thunderbolt to Jekyll Island, GA

2008-11-18T09:59:00.001-05:00

Thunderbolt (Savannah), GA to Jekyll Island, GA:

11/16/2008 Thunderbolt to Wahoo River at Anchor - 42nm.

11/17/2008 Wahoo River to Jekyll Island, Jekyll Harbor Marina - 48nm.

Charleston City Marina’s “mega-dock” may be where the rich and famous go to dock their 100' plus yachts but I know where they go to get them fixed and painted - Thuderbolt Marine in Thunderbolt, Georgia. They have facilities capable of hauling and painting yachts of over 200' in length (see photos). How much does it cost to paint one of these boats? The dockmaster said 7 figures is not uncommon.

There were 2 sailboats here with 165' masts, 6 sets of spreaders, with red lights at the top of the masts to help aircraft avoid hitting them. “Perseus,” the yacht you see in the photos, is 167' long, 40' beam, and draws 12' board up and 22' center board down. They were here for a new suit of sails (11,000 square meters of sail cloth) and to take on a new captain. For you sailing types, take a look at the photo of the guy standing on the bow next to the roller furling gear and the photo of Perseus coming back into dock for some sense of scale. The boat next to Perseus is a 42' Island Packet. By the way you too can rent this boat for a week for only $165,000 - including captain and crew of 10 of course.

G and I decided to take the bus into Savannah for a walk around the city and immediately struck up conversations with a couple of Thunderbolt natives. G spent the bus ride deep in conversation with a 60+ lady that was working part time as an assistant librarian for a local school. She is determined to make a difference in young ladies lives by regulating asking for permission to “talk” to them and help give them the guidance they don’t get a home. I made friends with a gentleman of indeterminate age that had been a photographer in a previous life. He reached in his pack and dug out some discount ticket to some local bars. That’s what I love about the South, friendly, open, people with generous souls. Sometimes I forget how much I like and miss Georgia and it’s people - today was a reminder that southern hospitality and the old south still exists. By the way, both people were Blacks or as my Mom would say Negroes.

This will be a bit technical for you non-boaters, live with it. Georgia has not maintain their waterway the way other states have and thus it is fast returning to it’s natural state - an endless progression of shallow shifting channels winding their way south to Florida. Some of the worse sections have silted in to 2 to 3 feet at mean low water. That’s the bad news. The good news is Georgia has 7 to 9 foot tides so it is do able. Gigi’s Island draws 5.5' of water. We elected to run the Georgia portion of the waterway at mid-tide (3 hours before high to 3 hours after).

So far our plan has worked. The run from Thunderbolt to anchor in the Wahoo River was uneventful with the exception of “ Hells Gate,” a short cut between the Little Ogeechee and the Ogeechee Rivers. We had timed our arrival at Hell’s Gate for about an hour before high tide so if we did run aground the water would still be on the rise and would be a little more “forgiving.” When we got there the Little Ogeeche was producing a 4' standing wave set up by swift current rushing into the river with an opposing wind trying to drive the water out, add the same thing happening on the other side in the Little Ogeechee with everything meeting in the middle of Hell’s Gate and you have one heck of a ride. We saw no less than 10' of water in the cut by the way. ...And G and I are glad to have it behind us.

The next day’s run to Jekyll Island gave us more skinny water to face but it too was a non-issue because we ran it on the high part of the tide. In many ways, the Georgia section of the ICW has been easier than some others because it forces you to run at mid-tide and takes some of the worry about running aground away.

We tied up at Jekyll Harbor Marina, primarily because it was damn cold and we wanted HEAT. We will sit here through tomorrow and then head for one of my favorite places on the ICW, Cumberland Island.

Jekyll Island was the home of the Jekyll Island Club other wise known as the Millionaires Club. The Club was founded by people like J.P. Morgan, Cyrus McCormick, Joseph Pulitzer, a Mr. Rockefeller, and many others as a “winter retreat.” The State of Georgia, in a controversial decision back in 1947, condemned the property, purchased the Island for $675,000, and turned it into a State Park. In the words of the Governor at the time, “Jekyll now is a playground for not just the rich but for every citizen of Georgia.” Never mind that right after the “taking” the good governor and his “buds” visited the now vacant homes of the “rich and famous” and absconded with everything that wasn’t nailed down.

Despite the thievery, Georgia has done a great job with the restoration of the old mansions and has created a park for us all to enjoy. Today, you too, can play crochet on the old court in front of the “Club” (provided you have proper attire of course). In addition they have established the “Georgia Sea Islands Sea Turtle Preservation Center” here on the island. If you are ever in this area it is well worth a visit.

Fairwinds & Rum Drinks,

Vic & Gigi

PS - I think I’m getting use to this damn cold weather...and I don’t like even the though of getting use to weather that short are not common attire.