Port Antonio, Jamaica: Part 2

Continuing on from our stop at marvelous Hogsty Reef, we pulled up anchor at 1:30 a.m. on March 5 under the star-studded sky and sailed close-hauled through the night with a light SE wind south toward Great Inagua, the southernmost island in the archipelago. After a couple of hours of motor-sailing at the end on the voyage, we dropped anchor at 9:15 in 4 meters of water on the north end of Man of War Bay with clear skies above and pure seawater below. It was time to snorkel again on the reefs and coral heads all around us. The coral, the sponges, the fish--they never cease to delight me!

Man of War Bay with the ruined Episcopal Church

Peter, Sherri and Ula on the foredeck

Peter and Sherri on the aft of Mantra

We weighed anchor at 4 p.m. and eased into a slip at Inagua Marina in Matthew Town at 5:45 p.m. We passed an enjoyable evening on the boat next to us, the S/V Alabama (with "Roll Tide" emblazoned along the mast). The captain, a Brit named Blondie and his partner from Canada, Natalie, invited us and the dock master for dinner. The saloon and galley as well as the cabins are larger than ours with beautifully maintained teak everywhere. We spent a lot of time discussing wonders of untouched (well, except for the numerous wrecks!) Hogsty Reef. Natalie, a professional photographer, had captured wonderful images of the terns at the rookery. We had only seen a few, although we heard hundreds after sunset. Blondie has a great sense of humor and kept us entertained with his accounts, sometimes ribald, of his adventures as a marine salvager and a sailor.

The next day, March 6, we were walking to the customs and immigration offices when a man in a pick-up stopped to give us a ride. On the way, he told us about how he was a "broke millionaire," land-rich with property on Inagua and Long Island but cash-poor with minimal employment opportunities in the Bahamas. After an expeditious clearing out at the office, we walked into the small town, past small, humble homes and narrow streets until we reached the general store, where we stocked up on sodas. We wanted eggs also, but there were now to be had.

On the way back to the boat, we stopped at a tiny restaurant where orders are placed at the window and one table seating four occupies the small patio in front. Macaroni and cheese is only baked on Saturdays, so no luck for me again! Enis, Ula and Peter ordered fried chicken and fries, which they shared with me. The cook must have run out of flour to bread the chicken, because a neighbor showed up with a baggie of it after we ordered. Considering the abundance of the sea, we are always amazed that chicken seems to be the staple on menus, with conch being a close second.

Peter at the General Store in Matthew Town

Enis, Peter and Ula at the one-table cafe

Around 2 p.m.we cast off, with the dockmaster and Alabama folks tossing on our lines and waving goodbye as we went through the harbor entrance. We provided them with a bit of amusement when I untied a fender and it plopped into the water. Quickly we circled around and retrieved it with great finesse. We'll call it a man-overboard practice maneuver!

An hour later, having passed the Great Inagua Lighthouse on the southwest point of the island (one of the three remaining kerosene-burning, hand-cranked in the Bahamas), we dropped anchor behind Molasses Reef. It was a rocky anchorage, with a southeast swell and winds from the north, but we only stopped for one last snorkel excursion in the Bahamas. The usual suspects--fish, barracuda and a shark--were present. Parrotfish gnawed at the coral, and glimmering ovoid blue tang swam in large schools around us.

Great Inagua Lighthouse

At 6 p.m., we pulled up anchor and set a course for Jamaica, one we were unable to follow directly because the wind was directly behind us but just inconsistent enough not to allow running wing and wing. We jibed across the rhumb line, changing tack about every two or three hours through the night, throughout the next day and into the morning of Friday, March 8. Still, it was great sailing at six to eight knots most of the time, with periods racing along at 10 knots.

The mountain peaks of Jamaica appeared on the southern horizon a couple of hours before we reached the dock at the Errol Flynn Marina in Port Antonio, on the northeast shore at 10 a.m. Sunlight was glistening on the palms surrounding the marina.  The red, pink and apricot blossoms of bougainvillea fluttered in the breeze, and the verdant Blue Mountains towered behind the low hills along the coast.

Peter at sunrise north of Jamaica

Land Ho!

Sunset at Errol Flynn Marina, Port Antonio, Jamaica

The lush, appealing, restful vision was counterposed by the noise from town. Two candidates are running in a fierce--and loud--race against each other for a position in the Jamaican Parliament. There are marches and parades and gatherings on most days, accompanied by cars with enormous loudspeakers mounted on their roofs, blaring political promises. This is in addition to music that usually starts in mid-afternoon but sometimes earlier, coming from the bars, restaurants and gaming halls in town, continuing into the early hours of morning. There is always a booming bass obscuring most of the voices and instruments being played. Sometimes there are actually vaguely discernible songs but often there is just strident yelling being accompanied by the throbbing bass. In addition, the noise is not confined to one source. Every venue makes a different contribution to the cacophony, competing for dominance. Sometimes my ears hurt!

It took a few hours to clear in.  There was a sheaf of papers, some duplicates, to complete; this took about an hour. Ula tidied up the boat before officials arrived--first a health official to lift quarantine, followed by two men from the Coast Guard, then one from customs and finally, after a while, two officers from immigration. Finally, we were free to get off the boat and head to the showers! By late afternoon, we were clean and everything was ship-shape, and we set off walking to explore the town of Port Antonio. We walked along the waterfront, with its crumbling low wall serving as a walkway between the sea and the street. Locals were just hanging out there or eating cooked food wrapped in paper purchased from hole-in-the-wall shops across the street. The concrete buildings are in various stages of falling apart. Windows, bricks, roof tiles, ornamentation and other parts are sometimes missing. Most were once painted bright colors, and a few still stand out, but most of the hues have faded in the tropical sun. There was not much litter, but the impression was still not one of cleanliness.

As the wall ended, we came to a more upscale-looking restaurant on the waterfront which included craft stalls, but we passed it by to find Anna Banana, a place that had been recommended to us. As darkness descended, the sea was separated from the busy street, barely wide enough for two cars to pass, by an endless row of small shacks, eight to ten feet wide, sometimes with no space in between. Each one is a bar consisting of a cheap linoleum covered floor about six feet deep backed by a wooden bar with rows of liquor arrayed behide it. The night must have been young; there were few patrons although the street was full of people.

We found Anna Banana, where we had our choice of tables, since the restaurant was empty, so we picked one overlooking the water. In an unhurried manner, the waiter approached to take our drink order. I asked for a bottle of Red Stripe, the local beer. When Ula ordered the same, she was told that no, she could not have one. We were confused until the waiter explained that there was only one, and I had already claimed it! The choice of entrees was similarly restricted. We wondered why they could not just walk to one of the adjacent bars and obtain another Red Stripe. Raised eyebrows, head-shaking and wry smiles aimed at each other, it turned out as the days passed, would be common reactions among us as we explored the area.

Well, it is time for another writing break. Later, mon!

Port Antonio, Jamaica

It's been over two weeks since I have posted, although it seems that more time than that has passed. Enis and Ula left on Monday to return to Baltimore, and Peter left on Tuesday morning for England for a two week vacation from our vacation, leaving me alone here at the Errol Flynn Marina in Port Antonio. I would rather be anchored someplace where I could slip off the swim platform every day to swim with the fish and other sea creatures, but I am passing my days sitting by and swimming in the pool. I have wandered a few blocks into town by myself a couple of times, but I don't really have anything to do here.

The other cruisers whom I have met have been friendly. Pete and Gail from S/V Pega invited me over for drinks two evenings ago, and yesterday evening I visited the 51-foot boat from France which is being sailed by a young couple and their seven delightful children. Sometimes, I play with the younger kids at the pool. If I were Peter, I would be endlessly amusing myself tinkering on the boat, but I have neither the skills nor the inclination.

In my abundant free time, I will now relate the events since Enis and Ula arrived at George Town on Great Exuma on Tuesday, February 26, until my current abandonment.  Peter and I met them at the Exuma Market dock.  Once again, the dinghy motor wouldn't start, and I was anxious to get back to the Chat 'n Chill Beach for the closing ceremonies for the 39th Annual George Town Cruising Regatta. We only got off the dock after Peter changed one of the spark plugs. They were new, but they are fouling up terribly after only a few runs. We really need a dinghy motor that just fires up reliably with ease the first pull. Another alternative would be oar locks, but those are missing!

After having drinks and lunch, chatting with friends and petting the stingrays that glide in the shallow water by the conch shack, we returned to Epicurus (Oops! That was our previous boat; I meant Mantra), where Ula unpacked the abundance of food she had brought and Peter and Enis started fixing things on the boat straight away. The family from S/V Mocambo came by to pick up the inflatable windsurfer we announced we were giving away on the cruisers' net that morning. Young John was so excited, and I hope that he and the other kids in the cruising community there are enjoying it.

Stingray at Chat 'n Chill Beach 

John being towed by his mom on his new windsurfer

That evening, we dinghied back to George Town to go to Eddie's Edgewater Restaurant for dinner.  When we arrived there, we found that there was a memorial service for a local woman who had passed away, with a Bahamian band and dancing. We were assured that we were not intruding and were ushered to the back dining room, where we waited a very long time for service. The menu was on a blackboard, and some items had been erased already, so the others had to be content with fried chicken and the accompanying rice and peas, fries and salad. The restaurant had already run out of macaroni and cheese, a Bahamian restaurant staple and usually my main meal when we eat out there, so I just ate a few of Peter's fries.

The harbour was choppy, so we got a bit wet returning to the other side of the harbour, which from George Town looks like a spread-out town along the opposite shore but is really a few hundred anchor lights.

The main item on the to-do list was fixing or replacing the white mast running light before our anticipated departure from Elizabeth Harbour the next day. On Wednesday, Feb. 27, Enis went up the mast in the bosun's chair and determined that we needed a new bulb. (Ula had to have a turn in the bosun's chair to take photos of the beautiful water and islands.) A search of the supply of spare parts on our boat turned up no matches, so we would have to wait until the next morning to purchase one.

Ula up the mast

The next morning (Thurs, Feb. 28), in addition to announcing on the cruisers' net our impending departure that day, we also asked if anyone had a lightbulb to our specifications. The response was immediate, and Peter and Enis set off in the dinghy to track one down. (This is one of the wonderful things about the George Town cruising community; everyone is always eager to share expertise and parts and to help others in need.) A couple of hours later they returned, after visiting another boat and going to the Top II Bottom store in George Town.

While they were gone, Ula inflated the floating chair they had brought and we took turns enjoying it.  Evan stopped by in his kayak to visit.

Ula in the floating chair

Evan in his kayak

Enis went up the mast again to install the new bulb, but by the time the light was installed and other tasks were accomplished, it was too late in the day to leave for Conception Island to the east across Exuma Sound, so we got to stay another day.  We had lunch and drinks at the Chat 'n Chill and went to the barbecue at the Peace and Plenty Restaurant that evening, where we chatted with friends from other boats as well as people we just met.  Peter, Ula and Enis ordered the mahi mahi dinner and I ate some of their macaroni and cheese, which, unfortunately was not real Bahamian mac and cheese but lasagna noodles baked with layers of cheddar cheese.  Six weeks in the Bahamas, and I had no mac and cheese.😞

Chat 'n Chill Beach

Ula, Enis, Sherri and Peter enjoying the local beer at the Chat 'n Chill

There was live Bahamian music, and Rick, one of the other cruisers, played his bagpipes. While Peter was busy on his computer, I was drawn into the dancing crowd and got Ula to join me. Enis didn't want to dance, so Ula danced with a sweaty Bahamian with whom I had also danced.

Rick playing his bagpipes at Peace and Plenty

Ula dancing with a Bahamian

After listening to the 8:00 net again on the morning of Friday, March 1, and announcing that we were really leaving this time, we pulled up anchor at 8:20 a.m. and started motorsailing in light winds toward Conception Island. We pumped out the holding tank after getting in deep water and were going merrily along when the engine died, having overheated, and we were adrift. Working on the assumption that the impeller for pumping sea water through the engine for cooling had failed, Peter and Enis set to work accessing that part of the engine compartment from the aft cabin and Enis crawled in and changed the old one for a new one.  (The problem is that the sea water pump feeds both the toilet and holding tank as well as the engine, so pumping the holding tank seems to have caused the problem.  Separating the feeds has been added to the to-do list!)

Enis installing an impeller

While we waiting for the engine to cool, we noticed a half dozen fish swimming toward the hull.  They were brilliant blue and yellow mahi mahi (dolphin fish). They swam around us for a long time, and, having seen their beauty, Ula regretted having eaten their kin. Ula and I sat on the swim platform and wiggled our toes to attract them but they didn't take the bait.

Mahi mahi in Exuma Sound

Toes for bait

Still the engine was too hot, but luckily the wind had increased to 13 knots apparent, and we were able to sail on a port tack. close hauled, into Calabash Bay. Manuevering past coral heads, with me on the bow giving directions around them, we smoothly anchored under sail in the bay close to shore with 1.3 meters of water under the keel. Spotting a dolphin or two cavorting over a reef north of us in the bay, we speedily donned our snorkeling gear. We were not able to find them, but we swam around the point just north of us and found a great reef with hundreds or thousands of fish, including many stoplight parrotfish, the first tropical fish I fell in love with decades ago in the British Virgin Islands on my first dive trip.

That evening was peaceful and we enjoyed one of the wonderful meals Ula prepared and then lay on the dinghy and the pilot house roof revelling in the multitude of sparkling stars and the Milky Way arcing across the dome of the sky as an occasional shooting star darted by and burned out.

With the engine back on line, we pulled up anchor at 8 a.m. on Saturday, March 2, circled around the north end of Long Island and motored down the eastern coast of the island until 1 p.m., when we were able to sail, although, with a current against us, we could only make 5.5 knots. With one reef in, we passed through a small squall and finally anchored in Little Harbour on the east side of Long Island in 5 meters of water at 6 p.m.

The next morning (March 3), we snorkeled again (because one can never snorkel too much) and then pulled up anchor at 1 p.m. to sail the rest of the day and all night to Hogsty Reef, a rare atoll in the Atlantic, north of Great Inagua Island in the southern Bahamas, far from land and lights. After sunset, the sailing was great, and bioluminescence trailed us through the water. We hove to at 2:30 a.m. and rested for three and a half hours, setting sail again as the sun rose on March 4.  We motor-sailed the rest of the way in light winds (10 knots) and calm seas and entered Hogsty Reef from the west and anchored behind Northwest Cay just after 2 p.m. We were so, so lucky to encounter perfect conditions for getting into and anchoring in Hogsty Reef. Unbelieveably, considering how crystal clear the water in the rest of the Bahamas is, the visibility at Hogsty Reef was even better than the Exuma Cays. We could count the links and see the marks on the anchor chain 6 meters (18 feet) below the water.

Northwest Cay, Hogsty Reef

We snorkeled on the reef between us and Northwest Cay, sighting the largest barracuda I have ever seen, a shark and thousands of fish. We swam in to the cay and explored this deserted island, finding parts of wrecks along the jagged shore. Ula collected sea fans that had been washed ashore and Peter claimed a four to five inch hand-made brass nail with a subtle green patina. After dinner, we watched the stars again and then Ula, Enis and I sat on the swim platform, kicked our feet and marvelled at the sprays of light as we disturbed the plankton near the surface.

(I am tired of typing, so this post will have to be in installments. More later!)

Blissfully reunited with Peter!

I am so happy that Peter is back.  I am sure that my relationship with Evan (LOL!) would not have worked out.  Maybe I'll try to snag him for someone in the next generation of my family.

It continues to be unbelievably beautiful and peaceful here. But, in addition to being a tropical paradise, George Town and Elizabeth Harbour is a safe, generous and friendly community of cruisers and locals. At peak season, there are about 300 boats anchored here. Everyone shares knowledge, expertise and parts. It's like a small town. No one locks their boats or dinghies. Being on topside is like being on your front porch. You can wave and yell to your neighbors nearby and greet the people going by in their dinghies. This is what the world should be like everywhere.

We plan to leave here tomorrow or the next day, depending entirely on when Peter is satisfied with the amount of maintenance and repairs he has completed. Our friends Enis and Ula from Baltimore should be landing at the airport right now, and they will be sailing with us to Conception Island, Long Island and the Aklins as the four of us head to Jamaica. We are really looking forward to having them aboard again.

The next post may be from Jamaica. Hoping for fair winds and following seas!

Mantra, center, from Chat 'n Chill Beach

Typical sunset from Mantra

Waiting for Peter

I have not had Internet access since the last post, so here is an update. Peter is returning today from 10 days in Antigua, where he, along with his brother Rob, was crewing on an Oyster 49 in the Caribbean 600. I am sorry to say, the boat came in last, but I think he had fun anyway.

While he was gone, I stayed aboard Mantra, which is anchored close to Chat 'N Chill Beach on Stocking Island across Elizabeth Harbour from George Town on Great Exuma. Peter missed the 39th Annual George Town Cruising Regatta, but I was able to enjoy and even participate in some of the events. After he got the taxi for the airport on Thursday, Feb. 15, I got a help from a fellow sailor on the dinghy dock in Lake Victoria in starting the motor. (It's not just me; it took him about 20 tries.)  I motored to the Chat 'n Chill beach to enjoy the Regatta's Variety Show. There was a lot of amazing talent, and the show finished with the Conch Blowing Competition as the sun set. Some of these yachties have amazing lung capacity.

Great Big Band music

Unbelievable talented musician with obvious performance experience

The next morning, on the 8:00 a.m. cruisers' net on the VHF, I heard Evan on the boat anchored ahead of us ask for two more crew for the Coconut Challenge that morning. I volunteered. It was so much fun. Here is how it worked:  From the back side of Chat 'N Chill, 19 dinghies removed their outboard engines in preparation for the race for the coconuts!  Meanwhile, launches set out with large trash bags of coconuts which they dumped into the water just before the start. We could only use fins for propulsion as we maneuvered to reach clumps of the floating fruit before others did. The four golden coconuts were worth 50 points each, compared with 1 each for the regular ones.  Unfortunately, we didn't get any of the gold, but we did collect 33 of the plain old coconuts. The next part of the competition was a 30-second coconut toss and catch in which one person on the team handed coconuts to another team member who had her back toward the two guys holding a large garbage bag about 15 feet away. She tossed them over her head and they scrabbled to catch them. We were pretty good at this. Jill had consistent tosses, and Evan and Rick did not even need to scramble much. Only one didn't make it into the bag, and we scored an additional 150 points. Some of the participants were veterans, so we probably didn't stand a chance of winning the prize (rum, as usual in the regatta), but it was great fun.

On February 19, I swam in to shore with my mask, fins and snorkel to watch the small boat races. There was a downpour at the beginning, but spirits were not dampened. There were races for kayaks and for SUPs in the kids', men's and women's divisions, followed by the blind dinghy race, in which engines were removed and two people crewed each one. The rower wore a blindfold and the other crew shouted out directions for the course. It was bumper boats at the start. One boat pulled ahead but the navigator had misunderstood the instructions and went for the wrong mark, so a sure win was lost. Another fun race was the home-made wind propulsion dinghy competition. The man using the large beach umbrella won! Jillian, the organizer for this event, was overwhelmed trying to get heats organized and get results, and her notes were becoming illegible in the rain (which cleared up after the second race), so she asked me to help with the recording. In the end, I got to announce the winners while she handed out the prizes (gift certificates for food and t-shirts, sexy underwear! and, of course, rum).

Blind Dinghy Race Start

Bumper Boats 

Alternative sails

More alternative sails

That afternoon was the homemade (only) costume contest for kids, adults and teams. There were a lot of great costumes for the theme Under the Sea. Of course, there were mermaids. The best kids' costume was the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. My favorite was the scuba divers who had 2-liter soft drink bottles wrapped in duck tape with rubber tubes running to their "regulators." I think pure rum was substituting for the air in the tanks!

Jillian's mermaid hat 

Great Pacific Garbage Patch

Scuba divers

Mermaids

In addition to the Regatta events, I've enjoyed hanging out with people on the beach and spent time reading a novel a day and studying Spanish in preparation for Cartegena, Colombia later this spring.

I would be lost without Evan on S/V Cordelia! He is such a sweetheart--and he knows engines. He has put his best efforts into getting either one of our temperamental outboard engines running, with limited results in no way related to his skills or perseverance. The larger engine does run, but it is a bear to start, and I have not been able to do it by myself. After Evan had worked on it a few days ago, I dinghied into the beach and anchored on the shore. While I was chillin', the tide went out. I had forgotten to raise the engine, but only one blade was about an inch in the sand. A woman on the shore helped me drag it into the water, where I struggled to get the engine back down. Then I tried to start it as I drifted away. No luck! The woman's companion dove in and swam out to rescue me.  He was able to get it started after several attempts. Then I noticed the plug was out and I was taking on water. I shoved it back in and steered to Evan's boat to have him check that I wasn't going to sink! Finally, after four failed approaches trying to get a line on the swim deck in the choppy waters, I hauled myself onboard! What an adventure!  (I went back to swimming to shore after that!)

Evan came to my aid again this morning as I was sitting in the dinghy, unable to even get the cord to pull. (It probably didn't help that I had forgotten to push the little red switch up!) But I made it to George Town this morning and have spent the past few hours getting caught up on all things Internet. Now I do not have enough power to add photos, so they will have to be added post-publication.

Peter arrives in an hour!

Greetings from George Town, the Exumas in the Bahamas

I now remember why I didn't keep up with a blog when we were sailing on S/V Epicurus for three years from 2006-08:  access to the Internet is intermittent on our travels and is often not as good as what we are used to at home once we leave US waters. We were without Internet service from the time we left Paula and Andrew's dock on Tuesday, February 5, until we arrived in Elizabeth Harbour two days ago and dinghied in from our anchorage off Stocking Island to the lovely and welcoming yachtie haven called George Town. Not much has changed in the ten years since we were last here, and it feels like a home away from home.

We cast off from Paula and Andrew's dock in Lucaya on Grand Bahama Island and sailed overnight to Nassau. How did it happen that we started out with a night sail? I prefer day sailing, but some distances require a night sail. This was not the case this time; we could have sailed first to the Berry Islands and then to New Providence Island, but Peter took longer than he anticipated checking items off his lengthy to-do list.

Sunset from south of Grand Bahama Island

We had to make it to Nassau in time for a rendevous with one of Peter's paddling friends from back home, Steve Wilson and his wife Sue. We anchored in Nassau Harbour in order to meet up with them. There is current through the harbour and few places to anchor, so most boats pull into marinas.  Because of this, dinghy docks really don't exist, but we found a place to pull in for a quick trip into town. Nassau has some picturesque and historically fascinating places to visit, but this is not where we went. No, we sought out the marine supply stores near the marinas and boat yards to purchase a new water pump for the foredeck and a valve for the holding tank. Pretty exciting stuff!

On Thursday, February 7, we went to an actual dinghy dock at the Nassau Yacht Haven, where tie-ups are available for free if you are eating at the Poop Deck Restaurant, which we planned to do.  Peter did not consult with me when he made plans with Steve, so Peter had chosen to meet at a marina on Paradise Island in Hurricane Hole. When we radioed the marina in advance that morning to confirm that there was a dinghy dock, we learned that, indeed there was, and we could use it to eat at the restaurant for a mere $70!  That's right, I confirmed:  Seven-O dollars! Who pays that? Although we had a phone number for Steve and could pick up Wi-Fi service at the Yacht Haven, we could not reach him, so I waited on the dock in Nassau while Peter raced across the harbor to pick them up at Hurricane Hole. Peter thought he had arranged to have lunch with them, so we hadn't eaten, but that isn't what Steve thought, so they had already had lunch. They enjoyed soft drinks while we ate, and then we out to Mantra. We pulled up the anchor and sailed east in good conditions, with Steve, himself a sailor, at the wheel almost the entire time. We were accompanied by a swarm of bees that clung to the each other and the back of the bimini. Never had that happen before! We anchored on the south side of Rose Island. It was much more peaceful there than the harbour, and in the late afternoon, we relaxed in the cockpit and enjoyed snacks and champagne in celebration of their marriage.

Sue, Peter and Steve

Hitchhiking bees

Sue helped me set up the food and then take things back down to the galley. Our practice is for a person in the cockpit to hand down the dishes, glasses and other items to someone who has already descended the companionway.  Sue started down with the tray with plates and wine glasses, assuring me she would be fine, but, oops! A wine glass toppled off the tray and glass shattered all over the sole (floor in boat language) in and around the galley. She was most apologetic and used the broom and dustpan to clean it all up. Unfortunately, a small sliver must have been missed, because later in the day it lodged deep into the middle of the sole of my right foot. Peter tried to extract it but was unsuccessful. So, it is still there, just a minor annoyance from time to time; I will have to seek medical attention in May when we are back in California. There are little clinics in the towns and settlements in the Bahamas, but I am not sure that I feel comfortable with seeking help there.

As the sun was sinking in the west, Peter set off with Sue and Steve in the dinghy to return them to the Poop Deck Restaurant, a few miles away. It was a long dinghy ride, but he finally returned in the dark a couple of hours later.

The next day, Friday, February 6, we pulled up anchor and headed south across the Yellow Banks to the Exuma Banks, making our way to Elizabeth Harbour. Peter decided to practice a man-overboard maneuver en route. It went pretty well, although we were unable to actually find and retrieve thetangerine peels we had tossed overboard. Part of the procedure is to activate the alarm on board.  The sound must have carried through the hull into the surrounding water, because two bottle-nosed dolphins came to our rescue!  They are such a delight to watch.

We picked up a mooring ball at Hawksbill Cay in the Exuma Land and Sea Park. We were quite proud of ourself for doing it with great finesse on the first try! Great snorkeling, vibrant colors and great sunset--what more could one want?

Peter part-way up the mast looking for coral heads as I steer through shallow water

Peter securing us to the mooring ball at Hawksbill Cay

The shadow of Mantra on the brilliant, crystal-clear waters off Hawksbill Cay

We anchored for three nights in Bay Rush Bay on the lee side of Great Guana Cay. Of course, I snorkeled frequently, swimming with the rays, gliding over the gorgeous sea stars on the cream-colored sandy bottom and finding colorful fish among the wide variety of coral, sponges and sea grass. One day, we decided to find the blue hole near the southern end of the island.  We swam to shore and put on our sandals to hike there. Peter chose a route over the sharp and broken limestone by the water. It was not good footing, and falling would have been a bloody disaster, literally. Finally, I could take it no more and went back in the water to snorkel south along the rugged shore while he continued on land searching for a path. A quarter mile later, we came to a small sandy beach. Peter scouted and found an overgrown but marked path across to the other side of the island. We bushwacked our way through and found a lovely bay on the Exuma Sound side, where we sat on the rocks to have our picnic lunch. Still in search of the cave, we headed inland on a less prickly path and found the opening.

We scampered down to the entrance and put on out masks and snorkels to explore with our dive light.   Unfortunately, many of the stalagmites and stalactites have been broken, but there were still some lovely formations, including flowing draperies.  We were surprised that the water was salty but not that there was little visible life. All we really saw were numerous shrimp, each an inch to two inches in length, mostly swimming upside down. Why, we wondered? This will require research later.

Sunset the first night at Great Guana Cay

Bay Rush Bay from the aft deck

Mantra anchored at Bay Rush Bay

Needing to get to George Town before Friday, despite wind from the south and potential squalls, we set off early on Monday morning, forced to motor into wind. We could have made it to George Town before sunset that day, but we were tired of motoring by mid-afternoon, so we anchored on the north side of Rat Cay. The anchorage was a bit rocky, but it was a lovely spot, with only one other boat at anchor. We snorkeled in to the beach. There was not much to see on shore other than the dense vegetation and the tiny snails clinging to the crevasses of the rocks by the water.  It wasn't until we were heading back toward the boat that we discovered a lovely large patch of coral with deep ravines with fish darting in and out of the hiding places. Peter had already turned away from the shore and was swimming toward Mantra when I came across a small area where at least a few hundred medium-size fish were congregating:  Nassau groupers, blue tangs, masked butterfly fish, various wrasse, sergeant majors and many others.  I couldn't get Peter's attention, so he missed them!

Beach on the north side of Rat Cay

Snails smaller than a fingernail clustered on the rocks by the water

The next day, we arrived in Elizabeth Harbour to anchor with hundreds of other boats in this popular yachtie destination.  We didn't know that we were arriving on the opening day of the 39th Annual George Town Cruising Regatta, a fortnight of festivities.  I really can't write much more, because the variety show will begin soon over on Stocking Island at the Chat 'N Chill, and I don't want to miss that. Peter got a taxi to the airport at noon and is en route to Antigua, where he will be crewing on an Oyster 49 in the Caribbean 600 Race with his brother Rob. I am on my own here in Elizabeth Harbour for ten days.

I only have Internet service when I dinghy into George Town, which I probably won't do for a few days, so the blog will be picked up later.

Still Getting Ready to Sail

Peter continues to work on his seemingly endless list of things to service, fix or change on Mantra. I have finished my sewing projects. The hatch covers, which I thought would be straightforward, were more frustrating to make than I anticipated while the combination wheel and binnacle cover was much easier to design, cut and sew. I am happy that the work is done.

Paula, Andrew, Peter and I have not been ventured out much this past week. On Friday evening, in honor of their 32nd anniversary, we went to the Flying Fish in Port Lucaya for a dinner of tapas and desserts. Today we went to the Banana Bay Restaurant for lunch. The food is good, but what is really special is the place, just above the fine white sand and clear water of Fortune Beach.

View from Fortune Beach

After lunch, we took a short walk along the beach, dipping our toes into the warm water. We discovered a nursery of dozens of young conch sheltering in the sand, grasses and limestone in a few inches of water along the shoreline. It is rare to find shells with live conch still inside. We were enchanted by their lovely spiral shapes and warm colors as well as the patterns they left in the sand as they moved more quickly than we would have thought possible along the sandy bottom. The sun also made wonderful rippling patterns in the shallows.

Conch along the shore 

Conch and their tracks in the sand

Sunlit ripples

Our new anticipated departure from Lucaya is Tuesday. Peter and I plan to make a direct run to Nassau, make a brief stop there and then continue south through the Exumas, arriving by the beginning or middle of next week.

Back in the Bahamas

Peter and I arrived at Freeport, Grand Bahama, on Saturday, January 26, and we have been staying with our BFFs Paula and Andrew in Lucaya since then.  Mantra is still secured to their dock, just as we left her.  I have cleaned, and Peter is painstakingly going through all the items stored under berths and seats, taking inventory or parts and supplies, rearranging them and choosing which items we will probably never need so we can off-load them.  I have started making hatch covers and a wheel/binnacle cover from Sunbrella fabric I brough with me from the States.  Peter needs to service the engine and I need to stock up on fresh, perishable food after he starts up the refrigeration.

While not busy with boat-related tasks, we (me more than Peter) have been relaxing with our friends. One afternoon, Paula and Andrew and I took a long walk along the beach.  This afternoon we enjoyed lunch at the cafe at the Garden of the Groves and then strolled around observing plants, birds and insects.  The garden is a very peaceful place, and we always see something new everytime we go.  The most striking thing this time was a busy wasp moth, which Andrew and I think may be a scarlett-bodied wasp moth.  That is our best guess at this time based on extensive Internet research.

Here are some photos.

Muscovy Ducks

Hibiscus

Hibiscus

Hibiscus

Poor Man's Orchid

Shooting Star Tree

Unidentified plant

Wasp Moth