67th Annual National Family Island Regatta and More

The 67th Annual National Family Island Regatta started on Tuesday, April 18. I will blatantly plagiarize or paraphrase from a sign in George Town about the history of the regatta. In 1954, a small group of Bahamian and American yachtsmen organized the first regatta of Bahamian working sailing craft. Traditional working sail boats had all but disappeared from the Grand Banks and the Chesapeake Bay, and these men were concerned about the state and fate of the Bahamian working fleet. They believed that condition of the boats would be improved by the preparations necessary for racing competition. In addition, the cruising community would be able to witness one of the last working fleets in action. Nearly 70 Bahamian sloops, schooners and dinghies gathered in Elizabeth Harbour in April 1954, for three days of racing. Except for 1973, when the regatta was held in Nassau as part of independence celebrations and in 2020, 2021 and 2022 when the regatta was not held because of the pandemic, George Town has been the site of the annual regatta. 

This regatta produced friendly rivalries. The early racing boats were working craft during the rest of the year, but the Bahamian racers soon began to build new boats designed for the speed necessary for winning races. Because of the prize money, it was not a bad investment to build boats for the sole purpose of winning regattas. In fact, one of the early aims of the regatta organizers was to preserve Bahamian boat building skills common in all the islands, and the competiveness that developed served this purpose.

On Tuesday afternoon (April 18), Peter and I dinghied to George Town. The brightly colored craft with their tall single masts and booms longer than the length of the boats were everywhere near town: sailing around checking their rigging and practicing their skills, anchored behind Regatta Point, and on the docks by the Government Dock. At the dock, venders--mostly of alcohol--had set up freshly painted, vividly hued shacks to attract customers. On the dock, the mail boats were being unloaded, and beer and liquor seemed to be the primary cargo unloaded that day. In the park, locals were setting up tables and tents to sell items that could be found at dollar stores in the States. I was greatly dismayed to see that the popular purchase seemed to be small toy guns, with young boys running around and shooting at each other. Guns are not a part of the culture here, except in Nassau. In the Exumas and the out islands, no one worries about random violence or crimes such as theft; in fact, no cruisers lock their boats or dinghies. Apparently, after hours of drinking and partying, there are some fights among the Bahamian men, but the weapon of choice is a broken beer bottle, something which is not useful for mass killings.

Racing sloop practicing in Elizabeth Harbour

Racing sloops anchored in Kidd's Cove

Colorful racing boats tied to the docks

Men working on their sloop before the start of racing

Government Dock

Racing boats docked at Regatta Point

Colorful vender booths providing alcohol, some food, and loud music

Shipment of beer and alcohol from a ship outside a liquor store

After moseying around town and going to the bank's ATM for cash, we went to Choppy's restaurant at the Exuma Yacht Club for afternoon appetizers, which were our dinner. We then wandered around some more, meeting other cruisers in the pop-up bar area and wondering where and when the announced 7:00 opening ceremony would be held. Finally, some locals provided us with the information that the service was being held at St. Andrew's Anglican Church (a fact that had been mentioned on the morning net and forgotten by us.)

We were about 20 minutes late but were welcomed warmly despite our inappropriate attire of shorts and t-shirts. This opening ceremony was a "Service of Prayer and Thanksgiving" for the regatta, and the various ministers and government representatives who spoke took turns chastising the regatta's commodore for the lack of attendance by the racers. (Only one local team was present and a captain from a sailing craft from South Andros, as far as I could see.) The assumption (or certainty) among all of us present that they were drinking on the docks and in the bars rather than participating in prayer and thanksgiving. Personally, although I am not a Christian, I would rather attend a church service than a rowdy party with exceptionally loud music. 

Interior of St. Andrew's Anglican Church

After the service, we walked back to the dinghy dock, stopping in the park to purchase a guava duff and a coconut tart, which we ate back on Mantra.

The next morning, at 8:30, Peter picked up Daniel (aka Shark Boy), who had cleaned the bottom of the boat the previous day, and brought him back from town to polish the stainless railings on deck. We offered him something to drink, and he accepted water and a Diet Coke. Obviously not used to carbonated beverages, he soon found that his stomach did not feel well. We then provided him with black tea, bread and Tums. In talking with him about barnacles, we were surprised (or maybe not) to learn that he did not know that they were living organisms. I guess that he didn't learn about crustaceans in school and had never contemplated how these hard, top-like shells managed to get to the bottom of boats and attach themselves to keels and rudders and props. 

At noon, Peter and I and Shark Boy crossed the harbor from Monument Beach. The 10:30 race had been delayed, but this enabled us to dinghy close to the contestants in that race as we traveled to George Town. 

Crew out on the planks

Another boat with crew in position

Boats racing on Elizabeth Harbour

The 12:30 start for the third race of the day had been delayed, and Peter and I were hungry, so we went to the Driftwood Cafe for lunch, which we had checked out the previous evening to see if they served vegetarian food--and they do! Other than the delicious veggie burger with sweet potato fries that I had at Peace and Plenty Beach Resort on Stocking Island in early March, I have not had a full meal at any restaurant in the Bahamas since we arrived in mid-February (which is why we do not eat out very often here). Sometimes menus will claim to have a vegetarian option, but it is really only the side vegetables served with carnivore meals. (The exception is the panko fried cauliflower at Peace and Plenty in George Town, which is delectable, but there is a serious lack of protein.) Therefore, I was delighted to be served a large helping of excellent eggplant parmesan with a side salad. We took our time over the meal, so I was able to consume it all, while I drank two Kalik's (Bahamian beer) in celebration of finding a restaurant with a varied menu.

After lunch, I picked up a few provisions at Exuma Market while Peter filled a fuel can with gas for the dinghy motor at the Shell station. Then we went to the waterfront for the beginning of the 3:30 race of A class (the largest) boats. We were told by the locals where the starting line was located, in front of Regatta Point. We walked through the cargo dock and along the rocky shore, where we sat on a wall equidistant between the two bright red balls marking the starting line. One boat was at the starting line at 3:30. The other seven showed up on the water one by one and came to the starting line after going out to test their rigging and sails and the wind. In this regatta, probably because the captains and crew are demonstrating their best working skills and teamwork, each race starts with the vessels anchored, so there is a real scramble right from the blast of the starting gun to raise anchor and hoist the sails. Then strategy comes into play, as the captains set off on their preferred courses to the mark. 

Cruisers in their dinghies waiting for the A Class race to start

A little after 5 p.m., the race actually began. By that time, a dozen and half dinghies with cruisers were holding their places behind the racers, and motor boats of all sizes--some of them support vessels--were all around. When the eight racing boats skated away across the water, the fleet of spectators and race officials started their engines and roared after them. We quickly walked to our dinghy and took off to view the sloops at close range. They raced across Elizabeth Island to a mark near our anchored boat at Monument Beach, doing three laps. The only way to keep up with them was to get the dinghy on the plane. The props of the dozens of boats with engines crossing back and forth the mile-wide harbor turned the mild chop to two foot, closely spaced waves. After the second lap, my back could not endure any more jolting, so we sat near the mark by Stocking Island and watched them make their last tack, the people scrambling to move across the beam and position the two planks out on the new high side. Each plank on the large boats holds three large but nimble persons providing ballast.

The race begins!

Tacking and transferring the planks to the new high side

Boats after passing a mark

Leading boats

We returned to the calm of Mantra feeling exhausted. We were supposed to visit Anne on S/V Bees Knees, but she radioed to say she also had just arrived at her boat feeling tired, so we willingly took a rain check and spent the rest of evening in a leisurely manner and watching another fine sunset.

Sunset, Elizabeth Harbour

Yesterday (April 20), we enjoyed the water aerobics class at South Monument Beach under sunny skies. Then Peter went to pick up Shark Boy to clean the bottom of Anne's boat and I commenced doing chores. Already wet, I got supplies and went back in the water off the stern to clean the area beneath the swim platform on the transom. This is where the exhaust for the engine and various openings for water are located, and black particles from the exhaust and algae cling stubbornly to the white painted fiberglass beneath the wooden edge of the swim platform. A cleaner specifically formulated to clean all manner of stains from fiberglass and other surfaces was totally ineffective, but Barkeeper's Friend, a nylon scrubber and a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser supplemented by vigorous and sustained rubbing did the trick!

After the success of that job, I moved on to cleaning and oiling teak in the cockpit and doing two loads of laundry. While I was hanging the first load on the lifelines, a female dolphin with her baby snuggled close beside her came by. Anne on Bees Knees alerted us to their presence, and I called out to Ted on Sundog. It is amazing that we all get so excited by dolphins even though they are not a rare occurrence. Meanwhile, since we were anchored close to the turning mark for the races, we were able to watch the swift sloops as they made their tacks. A dark front of clouds moved in from the east just before the last race of the day, and thunder could be heard in the far distance. I scrambled to get the laundry off the lines and Peter dogged down the hatches as the wind, which had been low, quickly ratcheted up to 25 with higher gusts. Nevertheless, the race started. We were monitoring Channel 8 to hear the race officials. About half-way through the race, one official was yelling that it wasn't safe and he received a reply that the crews did not want to stop. However, one by one, in pretty quick procession, they furled their massive mainsails and used their small jibs to return to George Town.

We could see rain showers around us, but we stayed dry. There was another lovely rainbow and an enchanting sunset. 

Sunset with storm clouds

This morning, with no eggs to cook and a quart of milk that had soured, we skipped breakfast (Peter had a granola bar). Around 10 a.m., we motored in Mantra across the harbor, approaching George Town just as another race was about to start. We maneuvered close to it, with me at the wheel and Peter videotaping.

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I am going to post this now even though I am not done, and tomorrow I will finish recording the events of today and add many, many photos.