The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

07 May 2018

Well, this was a tough post to write. And not just physically, since a significant percentage of my typing fingers were affected. Don't panic, nothing I won't recover from, other than maybe a souvenir or conversation piece, and a deeply bruised pride.

When something bad happens it very rarely is completely an accident, and if so, rarely the result of a single bad decision. I've thought about this kind of thing a lot, sometimes even when I didn't really want to, and from a very young age. It made me, let's say for the purpose of discussion, an unusual child. Adolescence didn't make it better, but it became occasionally useful in my career. It's clear now there were a number of these on this fine day, ranging from in scores from "not good" to "really?".

Let's start back at Hope Town, on what began looking like a beautiful day. The first inkling of trouble was in the morning when no one came by to collect the mooring fee. We had a $20 bill on the nav desk ready to go, but by 11a we were anxious to get moving. We decided we had to move and that twenty stayed on the nav. I place this under the category of bad karma. Moving on.

We had just decided Hope Town was as far as we were going to make it this season, and all of our movements now were to be at least leaning in the direction of making our way back to the states. I think this gave me at least a slightly inflated confidence, since we were largely just retracing our steps. Nothing we hadn't done before.

But on the topic of returning there were a number of pressures. First was hurricane season, which looked like it was already ramping up with the number and intensity of storms we had been experiencing. We wanted to be stateside and north before the show really got rolling. Our insurance company felt the same way, requiring us to be north of Cape Hatteras by June 1, the official start of hurricane season. Finally, Heather had a family reunion in Vegas over the 4th of July, so we needed to park the boat somewhere secure and hit the road by late June. Since we had already blown through the first week of May, we really were already late.

As for the topic of weather, I recall us briefly discussing (well, me saying) that morning that the weather was going to be worse than the day before, with a 90% chance of rain, and perhaps even more important, significant rainfall. Like more than 10% of what we get in a year in Arizona. I was pretty sure we were going to get wet, which was okay, and the wind was supposed to be coming from SSW. Not enough weather to be unsafe directly, but enough to perhaps pressure our decision making, and degrade our communication, especially with Heather at the wheel and me 40 feet forward at the bow. Again, nothing we hadn't seen before, and with no reaction from Heather, I accepted it and let it go.

While we had pressures to get moving on our return, we also had something that was still on our list. Heather loves the water, and she had yet to do more than wade in from the beach to feed the turtles. We had literally dozens and dozens of pieces of snorkeling gear of varying ages and conditions that we wanted to try out, pick the best for us (with some spares), along with a couple more sets of everything for guests, and get rid of the rest. We had been hauling some of this stuff for two years, since we got the boat, with the last shipment from moving out of the house and into the storage unit. It took up a significant portion of the aft cabin, plus a huge dive bag with even more stuffed in a lazerette. I really wanted most of it gone.

Next topic - anchoring. Staying at a dock costs money. Now that we have simplified our budget, most months slip fees are our second largest expense. Anchoring is free. Although we have gotten better at anchoring, and Heather is now comfortable with setting the anchor well with the engine revved up in reverse, we're still not completely comfortable with it, and I never sleep well the first night or three. We've never left the boat while anchored.

Since we're still pretty new at this, our compromise has frequently been moorings, permanent anchors usually drilled into the seafloor, with lines brought to the surface by a float. They're usually pretty cheap, but why we still routinely trust these anonymous anchors in unknown condition more than our our own anchoring rig and skills is certainly a topic for discussion. Well, anyway, we run lines through loops in the end of the mooring lines, tying them off on our bow cleats. Heather has gotten good at getting me within boat hook distance so I can scoop up the mooring lines from the float, and I've gotten good at scooping up and tying off the lines quickly. The important addendum that we were not thinking of was "for the conditions we had experienced".

We had paid good money for a number of guide books for the Bahamas. Some of them seem expensive at first, but when you think of the number of people and the years they spent acquiring the information and wisdom they have attempted to summarize it looks cheap. Well, we were headed back to Fishers Bay at Great Guana Cay, not so much to revisit Nippers, but to pick up a mooring surrounded by clear water so Heather could snorkel off the back of the boat, trying out gear. In one of the most respected guides there was an unusual notation for Fishers Bay, which is open to the west. Do not attempt to pick up a mooring in a west wind. But with an exclamation point. In all caps. And to finish it off, entirely in bold. Almost like they were trying to make a point.

Heather and I discussed this as well as we could in the wind and the rain. Specifically, that I could not recall any other point in the entire guide receiving this treatment. We talked about anchoring instead, but we both still had a strong preference for a mooring. When we arrived several boats were still happily moored there and I had not yet made the guide's distinction between the act of picking up a mooring, and remaining on a mooring. The wind was mostly from the south, with only a little west, and once on that mooring we would be protected from that west wind by the curve of the island. True, but in retrospect, not the point the guide was trying to make.

What should have been more important was what our own eyes were telling us. The storm had made the open anchorage very bouncy, with a decent swell. We had been in much worse, but not while trying to pick up a mooring line. So this gets to one of the most important errors. People know things to be true. At some point they try to attribute to these truths some sort of causation. Sometimes these proposed causes turn out to not be completely true, such as evil spirits or imbalanced humors as causes for disease. But an error in causation doesn't change the fact that the disease can still kill you. I saw this error a lot at work (myself included), that disproving a proposed cause somehow defanged a clearly established effect. Because the the guide was cautioning against a west wind, and we barely had any, I jumped to - well, it must be okay.

So that's how two otherwise intelligent people ended up trying to pick up a mooring line in an open bay during a storm. The first pass I couldn't even pick the line up out of the water. Some waves raised or lowered me several feet at the bow. Around we went for another pass, acquiring up an audience from neighboring boats already moored.

On the second pass I snagged the line in the water with the hook and brought it up the the deck. I had the line in my right hand, between my thumb and index finger so you can release the line quickly if you have to (as we were trained). I was trying to secure the now unneeded boat hook with my left hand, and glanced back to make sure. The mooring line was completely taut; I could feel the line pulling me. I was losing it, but for some reason didn't let it go.

Before my head came back completely facing forward another steep wave came by and popped the bow of the boat up at least a couple feet, but didn't make the mooring line in my hand any longer. I heard a loud snap, like breaking a green 1/2 inch thick branch. If it hadn't been for the noise I'm not sure I would know precisely when it happened, which helped me figure out how. I didn't actually see it because it happened so fast, and my head wasn't quite pointed in the right direction. Now I looked down at my hand but couldn't really process what I saw because I hadn't seen something like this before, and because it didn't hurt - yet. The wave had yanked my hand into the stainless steel bow rail, at which point I did finally released the mooring line. I looked again then just sat down, yelling at Heather that we were now going back to Marsh Harbor.

She did this without question. If you know Heather this was, shall we say, uncharacteristic. She knew something bad had happened, just not what. I didn't either, really. She had seen my double take at the bow, quickly followed by me plopping down roughly on the deck on my ass. I slid on my ass back to the cockpit, then went down below to take a couple of ibuprofen before the pain really hit me. Heather immediately had me take a couple more - good call. While below I did what the kids do; I took a picture with my phone. What's wrong with this picture? And this is minutes later, before the swelling kicked in.

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Hope Town 2

07 May 2018

We had lunch at the club on the Atlantic side of the island. This was the view from our table.

And the beach below.

After a nice lunch we trundled back down the street (barely wide enough for two golf carts to pass each other). We got another picture from the vacant lot, this time with the boat centered (it's all the way in the back).

That lighthouse light panned across our boat in the sound all night. It felt a little like one of those jailbreak movies. The last winding must be at about 3a because after 5a, just before sunrise, it was stationary.

It was quiet - too quiet.

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Hope Town 1

06 May 2018

We were getting antsy again in Marsh Harbor, so off we went to Hope Town. It was only a couple hours away, and the weather was okay, with us dodging a few small squalls. We picked up a mooring near the entrance. We asked a neighboring boat how to pay, and they said a guy would be by in a skiff.

Hope town is on Elbow Cay, identified by their lighthouse. It is still powered by kerosene, and wound by hand every two hours.

This place is just impossibly picturesque. We took the dinghy to the public dock and tied up. It was Sunday, so it was pretty quiet. We talked to some folks that had a house on the island, and they recommended one of the few places open on Sunday, the club up the path. On the way there there was a little park on the Atlantic ocean side.

On the way back there was another wooded lot between houses, which anywhere else would jut be a vacant lot. You could just see the light house across the sound.

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Marsh Harbor (1)

30 April to 05 May 2018

We arrived at Marsh Harbor, the big city of the Abacos with a population of about 6000 souls. We originally intended to stay for four days to get the lower rate, but the weather was iffy on and off and the town was nice so we ended up staying a little longer. MH had not just one supermarket but two, along with various bodegas, and a high ratio of liquor store square footage given the population.

On Tuesday we rented a car and drove up to Treasure Cay, which is not really a cay, which is why we could drive to it. They drive on the left, so I was having Scotland flashbacks. We scoped out the marina and mooring area. It seemed like a quiet place to hang out for a few days. It's known mostly for the beaches. 

While we had the car we also did a grocery run. We returned the car before dark so we didn't have to figure out where to park it. By the third or fourth day we had walked most areas and tried most of the restaurants. The only chain fast food place in town, I think in all of the Abacos, is a KFC.

We checked out the large harbor on how we would anchor if we wanted to. We drove to the other side of the harbor to see Mermaid Reef, where we might be able to do some snorkeling.

We finally found a BTC office that was both open and had SIM cards, so I bought one for the iPad. I started to get the hang of the SIM card shuffle, but it looked like BTC blocked hotspot usage.

It was nice to have most of the perks of civilization within a walk away, but we started getting antsy again and we decided to head out again, this time to Hope Town.

The shot below was taken at dusk while most of the anchored boats still had their mast lights on.

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Great Guana Cay

29 April 2018

When we left GTC we went south, briefly heading into the Atlantic via the Whale Cay passage. While the passage is usually calm, it can be subject to what is called a rage, where waves are breaking. This is bad, as breaking waves sink boats. So every morning on the VHF radio people share their observations in or at least near the passage to see if it is navigable.

Our next stop after the passage was Great Guana Cay, home of the world famous bar called Nippers (world famous at least to boating people). You see Nippers t-shirts everywhere boaters are.

It looks out over the Atlantic at a beautiful beach and reef.

We were at least twice the appropriate age for Nippers. After a few drinks, some conch, and a run through the pig roast buffet we rolled back to the other side of the island where our boat was moored.

Facing our boat was another bar called Grabbers. Our boat is in the middle there somewhere.

Later that evening the moon was rising over the bar, so the shot below is from our boat looking back at Grabbers.

The sunset was beautiful.

These were our good experiences in Fishers Bay at Great Guana Cay (foreshadowing).

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Exploring GTC

26 - 28 April 2018

In the morning we started exploring GTC. It soon became clear that some assistance would be nice, and we tried to rent a golf cart. After the second place had rejected us for no reservations (?!) the first place had an early return we could snag. We had wheels. We put putted about the island for most of the afternoon. The island is only three miles long, so it really doesn't take forever. The original settlement area is quaint and very compact, with streets well sized for golf carts. Two hundred years ago, how did they know?

There was a little memorial park in the town center. It seems like a dozen last names account for much of the population.

Back at the resort, the bar is apparently know for displaying burgees from visiting boaters, and dollar bills personalized in various ways. They're running out of room.

The next day we picked up some squid bait (bait squid?) and headed for Coco Bay, where there were supposed to be green turtles you could feed. The fish snagged some, with an especially aggressive little barracuda, but Heather was finally able to feed a turtle.

Later that evening we went to rib night in town. Instead of going back like we should have, we went to a bar called Pineapples. Soon after we got there it started to pour. Then it really started raining. By the time we got back to the golf cart we were already soaked. There really isn't anywhere to go from there. Sunrises and sunsets in the lagoon were great.

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Green Turtle Cay

25 April 2018

We were really dragging in the morning because we had not slept well at Spanish Cay. We were one of the last boats out of the marina. We declined a trip to the fuel dock after seeing the difficulty another sailboat was having approaching in the 20 knot winds. Out we went, giving the shallows south of the island a wide berth, then on the Green Turtle Cay, only a few miles away.

The entrance to White (north) sound was tricky, tough to see. The channel is very shallow so we were approaching at high tide. The channel wasn't even wide enough for the powerboat behind us to feel comfortable overtaking us.

Once inside the fairly small sound there was some confusion about mooring balls. We found one with local dive shop's name on it, like we were looking for, but couldn't see number on it anywhere. We tied up to it anyway. When we got to the office they admitted they needed to be repainted, although "everyone" knew which was which. The charter boat which had reserved the last remaining ball picked up the other mooring, one we didn't even see until it was pointed out by the dive shop proprietor (the charismatic Brendal), so it all worked out.

We arrived without having arranged transportation, apparently a rookie mistake, so we stayed near the resort. We were hungry because it was a travel day and we don't eat much before we arrive. Since it was between lunch and dinner, the only thing open was the pool bar. Off we went.

Turns out they didn't have food either because their cook  station was down. But they did have lots of fabulous drinks on special, some of which might as well have been boozy milkshakes, so close enough for a snack.

The bartender, named Ashley, said her grandmother invented the Goombay Smash, and that if we wanted an authentic one we should go to the family's Blue Bee bar in town. At that point we were already smashed enough to believe anything.

We had a dinner that night in their dining room that was a little too nice for our informal attire. We were too tired to care much, and it was very good.

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Spanish Cay

24 April 2018

The next morning looked at least as good, and the weather forecast showed increased clearing between the squalls, so on we went. Our next stop was Spanish Cay, the first civilization we would hit since West End five days before. It's a private island with a little resort and even a small airstrip.

On the way there we were lucky to only hit the edge of a very large squall. A boat behind us said on the VHF it went on for at least five miles. The trail of storms continued all the way towards Florida.

We got there pretty early and the marina was empty, but by dark it was almost full. That should have set off some alarm bells. In retrospect I was a little too casual setting up the dock lines. When I asked to get wifi they cautioned me that it was satellite and didn't work well with the bad weather, so I declined. We had a nice little dinner at the marina restaurant.

Late that night all hell broke loose. The breakwater wasn't solid and waves were just plowing right over it, slamming into our fairly flat stern. Then some really impressive winds hit, stretching one of our spring lines at least a couple feet so our anchor was actually hitting the dock, which in turn was kicking up the cover for the anchor well with a bang that sounded like a gunshot. It took us a few minutes to figure this all out in the wind and the rain and the dark. It took all my (substantial) weight to pull the spring line in a couple feet and get us off the dock.

Even with us not hitting the dock the waves kept slapping our stern all night. In the morning we noticed that all of the powerboats, and most of the sailboats, had docked stern in, so their bow was facing more toward the entrance and the breakwater.

At some point during  the night the power on the boat went out, but I no longer really cared. In the morning we found out it wasn't just us. One of the island generators had blown during the storm. In the morning I also saw that our anchor had chewed about six inches off the end of one of the dock planks. Oops. The anchor and the rest of the boat looked fine once I brushed the chunks of wood off.

Next time we had wifi I noticed that a late weather supplement email had come in earlier that evening at Spanish Cay, a few hours before the storm had hit, because conditions had worsened, potentially forming some pretty explosive storm cells with winds of up to 70 knots. That would have been good to know. I don't think we got hit with the full extent of that, but it was similar or even a little worse than the 50 knot storm we had seen at the dock in New Orleans last year. We need to keep working on our weather source(s) when away from the states.

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Anchor Drill

23 April 2018

In the morning there was some blue sky with isolated squalls drifting though. We were tired of sitting so we decided to go. We were making decent time but it was a little bouncy. Not bad at all in the direction we were headed.

But then there was a big squall in our path that I didn't like the look of. When I had done this before with John K we had gotten all too close to a couple of waterspouts in a squall like that.

First I slowed down to try and let it pass in front of us. When that didn't buy us enough I started turning north, in retrospect a mistake. The motion of the boat became much less comfortable as the swells started hitting us abeam. Strangely I was fine but Heather was uncomfortable. Usually it's the other way around, but when the wind was behind us she got a blast of diesel exhaust which she really doesn't like.

The squall stalled for a while and I ended up circling all the way back the direction we had come from. By then we were ready to call it a day. If I had known I should have initially turned south, towards the nearest middle of nowhere cay that was a good stopping point, call Great Sale. We finally turned south and headed over to the southern tip on the west side. There was a large trawler tucked way up in the harbor, and a little sailboat to his east.

We anchored in a way that we thought was aggressively close, maybe 300 yards off the beach, but another sailboat came in late and dropped they anchor at maybe half our distance to the beach and the shallow area north of us. The wind was from the east, so it shouldn't have mattered, until it did.

Another strong squall came through late that night. All the sudden the anchor alarm was going off and I was about 10 seconds from having Heather run up top and start the engine. The squall was strong enough to counter the prevailing east wind and back it all the way around to the west. We were now being blown toward the beach, and I wasn't initially certain whether we were dragging closer or not.

It soon became clear that if we had dragged it was only maybe 20 yards before the anchor had reset (yay oversized Rocna). The squall passed on and the prevailing east wind slowly resumed, blowing us back away from the beach. Lesson learned - local squalls can be strong enough to temporarily overcome prevailing winds.

In the morning the sailboat north of us was now several hundred yards off the beach. It looked like things had gotten a little too close for them where they were and they had to reposition in the dark. Not fun.

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Sitting Tight

21-22 April 2018

That night the weather we had been expecting hit. Everyone stayed put the next day. We watched DVDs and read and did little chores. Just feeding yourself on the boat then cleaning up takes quite a while, especially when the boat is moving some. The wind wasn't that bad and the island kept the worst of the swells away. They don't get that big on the banks to begin with.

The next morning the cat was gone but we were still not feeling good about leaving. Part of the issue was getting used to the limited connectivity for weather reports. I was getting what we had from our little sat texter, which was okay but not very detailed. We stayed put a third night, but we were getting a little antsy. On the other hand, we had two zero dollar days, where absolutely no money was spent by either of us. Those help bring the average down for our little adventure.

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Next Step in the Bahamas

20 April 2108

The West End marina wasn't cheap. They have a monopoly in a pretty good spot. We needed to get out of there while our credit cards still worked. The weather looked good for the day but something else was rolling in soon. After taking forever to fuel up at the dock we headed north from the marina about mid-day to the cut onto the banks. This is a pretty shallow cut and I wasn't thrilled, but I didn't want to go farther north to the somewhat deeper water either. At least it was near high tide.

We turned into the cut and just followed the standard track through to the (slightly) deeper water on the banks. It took about an hour, with Heather driving and me on the bow, doing I'm not sure what. I was watching for shallow spots, but everything was shallow. The sun was high which at least was good for spotting. I think I had Heather slow down once for a section that turned out to be just sand scrubbed of sea grass, so it looked shallower that it really was.

On the other hand, I was at the bow when the dolphins came over. The water was so clear you could see every detail, including one's torn up fin. They didn't stay long so I couldn't get a picture. Then there was the patch of giant black and orange starfish. Once we got through the cut and onto the banks the water was a whopping several feet below the keel. Once again we were grateful we had lucked into the shallow draft keel. We proceeded across the banks on a beautiful day. At the center of the picture below is a sailboat that is maybe four miles away. This was the 360 degree view from the boat. It's always so crowded this time of year.

Since we got a late start we didn't get far, maybe 20 miles, to a little island called Mangrove Cay. FYI - "Cay" is pronounced "Key" here. There's not a lot to Mangrove Cay. It's uninhabited, but it's a stopover that offers a little shelter from the wind and swell. Since the dominant wind was from the east we went fairly far south on the west side of the island and anchored. A large cat was to the south of us, seemingly not behind the island at all, and way out. A couple more sailboats came in as the day was ending. In the picture below we are 3-400 yards of the beach.

We cooked dinner on the back of the boat while watching the sunset, watched a DVD of something and called it a night.

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On Our Way

19 Apr 2018

After more of a long nap than a night's sleep we were up in the dark, making final preparations for departure. We got all the instruments up and running, started the engine, released the mooring, and we were off about 4a. We hadn't done much close quarters maneuvering in the dark since we left the gulf, but we were pretty used to the neighborhood by now. Even though we had gone under the 17th St bridge (55 foot clearance closed) on our way up, I was still a bit puckered going back under it again, this time in the dark. We supposedly clear by a couple feet.

We slipped beneath the bridge without a whisper, turned left, and we were looking at the ocean. Well actually it was dark, so we didn't see much other than nav lights. The ocean still had a little swell going, but it was supposed to keep smoothing out as the day went on. The gulfstream was about about 18 miles offshore so we set our sights on West End directly.

We had this whole plan to go south to Miami, or even farther, then cross over to Bimini, mostly because that is what I'd done before with John K. Since we were no longer trying to coordinate with anyone else's schedule we decided to finally let that go. All the guide books said do the Abacos first in the Bahamas, so we decided to ditch everything else entirely. It mostly worked out.

West End is much easier to hit when leaving from Ft. Lauderdale. It's the west end (go figure) of the northernmost banks in the Bahamas, and it's maybe 30 miles north of FtL, which makes the 3 mph north gulfstream work for you instead of against. It wasn't much after 5a when it seemed like the sun was starting to come up. With no other lights around you get a lot of warning. The swell settled down to a very calm 1 to 2 foot, with the occasional 3 or even 4 footer rolling through. Pretty nice for fair weather boaters like us.

About dawn the water seemed to warm up a little, and the boat speed over ground starting ramping up with no change in heading or engine rpms. We were in the gulfstream. We altered our heading closer to due east to get across the stream without overshooting West End. It was about 30 miles wide here, so we had maybe six hours of free ride north courtesy of the gulfstream. Once we were mostly out of the stream effects we pointed directly at West End again for our final approach.

We saw land maybe six or eight miles out, just some scrubby trees sticking up from a low, flat island. But the water was amazing. You could see things on the bottom like there was maybe a foot of water rather than 15 or 20 below us. I read somewhere to think of the banks like a giant dinner plate, with the edge ramping up slightly - but broken in spots, so some of the edge was lower than surrounding sections. The center of plate is just 15 feet below the surface of the water, with the edges less that that. As a result, the three-foot tide flowing over this giant plate, then six hours later off again, flushes a tremendous amount of water through the banks, making the water some of the clearest in the world.

We had some difficult spotting the cut into the marina, but some sportfishers with their giant wakes pointed the way. Heather guided us right into our slip. With no drama at all, we were in the Bahamas on our own boat. We raised our yellow quarantine flag and prepared to clear in. I gathered up our paperwork and passports and headed over to the government offices. After very little hassle (no guns or pets helped) we were admitted into the Bahamas. We pulled down our quarantine flag and raised one for the Bahamas per protocol.

We got a ride from the marina to the BTC office to try and get new sim cards for our phones and iPad. While they were open (we discovered this was unusual) they had been out of product for weeks (not unusual at all). Our phones were going to be at the mercy of AT&T for a while here. We grabbed some fish and chips on the way back and called it a day. The pic below is of our boat in the West End marina, Bahamian flag flying low for some reason.

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Mail Delivery and Final Preparation for Bahamas

13 - 18 April 2018

After Heather got back I had a lot of mail to go through. When you only pick up the mail every month or two it seems to really build up. That and more chores, like finishing the third rail section on the boat.

On Sunday we went back to a slip, hooking up the electrical this time for air conditioning and to top up the battery bank. To do so on this new dock we needed yet another electrical adapter, but this one wasn't too outrageously expensive and came in handy again very soon. We made final passes to the grocery store and marine supply houses.

We checked in with the insurance company for the boat to confirm our coverage for the Bahamas and topped up our water tanks. We started checking the weather religiously again, sometime three and four times a day, trying to find the best window for the gulfstream crossing. We rinsed off the boat again, finally swapped out our diesel jugs we use for an emergency reserve, and printed out and started filling out our Bahamas entry forms.

We knew we were getting close when on Tuesday we took the car to a long term storage place south of the airport and payed thru May. Here's one last shot of one of Ft. Lauderdale's creepiest residents, in this case hedge surfing to surprise people walking to the beach.

On Wednesday we took showers ashore and made one last visit to the French bakery before we left the slip. After pumping out at the adjacent dock we chugged down past the bridge to the fuel dock and topped up our new reserve diesel jugs and the main tank, and grabbed a last couple bags of ice.

We went back up to the mooring field and picked up a ball. We started preparing like we used to when we would take the kids to southern California on vacation. Pack up the car until we we ready to go, then don't. Wake up in the middle of the night and get started, and we'd be well on our way before the sun came up. So that's what we did.

The picture below is from the mooring field looking at the small park at the base of the bridge on the west side.

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All I Lack is Finishing Up (Courtesy MS)

11 - 12 April 2018

On Wednesday I got the third rail masked and puttered around trying to reorganize all the crap in the main cabin. I started stitching up the last loose section of the wheel but ran out of daylight. Stocked with plenty of leftovers from the Red Cow BBQ I ended up not even leaving the boat. The Australian couple across from us was redoing their wood rail as well, but tag teaming it, with her in the dinghy doing the outside, and him on the boat doing the inside, with no masking that I could see. They went up and down both sides of their 40 foot boat in a little over two hours. I was impressed.

When I was up top something silver in the water caught my eye. As I got closer it was about a 10" fish with a dark band down its side. As it floated closer to the top I could see the dark band was actually the jaw of some sort of gar, about three feet long. I don't see how the gar could eat the fish, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let him go. Every few minutes the fish would struggle desperately to get loose. I lost sight of them as they floated off. It was hard to get a picture of under the water but here you go.

On Thursday I was out of time. I was picking up Heather at the airport that night, If I was going to get something done it had to be today. The Aussie couple was at it again, but it the cooler morning hours this time. Damn they're fast, and it looks great, at least from 60 feet. I moved things around the cabin some more, some of which I was pleased with, most of which I was not.

After checking the weather I bumped out our mooring stay two more days, slipped out dock reservation to the two days after that, with a plan to leave for Miami Tuesday, hopefully crossing early Thursday morning to the Bahamas, if this weather forecast holds. I picked Heather up at the airport that night, and we putted back to the boat in the dinghy in the dark. The picture below shows what it looks like at night when the water glasses out. It's been fun here but we're both excited to be moving on soon.

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We're Not in Kansas Anymore

09 - 10 April 2018

On Monday I did it again, touching up the second section of rail and stitching another foot of the wheel. After a shower I picked up another pizza, on foot this time. Compared to the concert the beach looked deserted.

Tuesday started out the same, with another full coat on the second rail and some more stitching on the wheel. The clouds looked more menacing than before, so I figured if I was going ashore I should get it done. I was in West Marine when the first tornado warning was announced. When that warning expired I went to a second store, where another tornado warning was issued and torrential rains hit. I waited out the rest of it at a BBQ place and an hour later the sun was shining again. The picture below doesn't really capture how impressive the weather was. When I got back to the boat it was fine. Well, it was actually a mess down below, but the same mess I had left in the throes of my reorganizing.

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More of the Same

07 - 08 April 2018

Saturday started with more of the same. The rail I had touched up the day before I scuffed all over with a red Scotchbrite pad, followed by a tack cloth then acetone wipe. I put a full coat of Cetol on the rail section and it was dry enough when the afternoon sprinkles started to threaten. I did another foot of stitching on the wheel leather at a slightly less glacial pace and with less objectionable knots at the beginning and end. Lots more to do but it no longer looks like it would fall off in a breeze.

I decided I did need to finally drive in the concert traffic. It took me about 10 minutes to go the first 400 yards. It was like driving through Mardi Gras. I needed more paint brushes from Home Depot Never seen one with a parking garage before. Must be expensive real estate for a big box store. While I was there I picked up an assortment of baskets and clear boxes for further organizing the boat. I'm starting to see how the previous owner managed to sink the waterline four inches.

A quick run through the pharmacy and grocery and I was ready to pick up a pizza at Anthony's. I approached the marina from the back way (over the bridge we're staying under) and managed to avoid the worst of the traffic. I got the pizza, the brushes, groceries, and maybe half of the containers in the dinghy. Pizza delivery in a dinghy by yourself is not easy, but I managed.

That night the music from the festival was somehow even louder. I couldn't quite make out most of the songs other than the classic rock they used during sound checks. I'm pretty sure being closer wouldn't have helped my name that tune abilities that much. I watched a movie that Heather would hate - Final Destination.

Since it looked like it could rain hard Sunday afternoon, that morning I started masking off another rail section. I stitched another segment of the wheel. I made a run to Jimmy Johns for some lunch, grabbing some ice on the way back, along with more containers for boat organizing stashed in the car.

The picture below is from outside the concert after a little rain had thinned the crowds some.

They even had cops on horseback for crowd control.

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All Work and No Play...

05 - 06 April 2018

I received my FCC radio license via email in the wee hours of the morning. I'm not sure a person actually laid eyes on it. Oh well, we're official. Deciding what to do about an Epirb is now on our list. We have an ancient one that is still registered to the previous owner and has a battery with an unknown status. Getting a new one sounds nice but then disposing of the old one without setting off an international incident then becomes an issue.

I taped off one of the sections of the top rail teak. We had had the front two sections on both sides done with natural teak Cetol in Brunswick but the back half of the boat was on me. Masking was not too bad except the ends and going around the cleat and rub strip.

For lunch had I a couple of grilled cheeses from the last of the sliced cheese. Paid some bills, read some, then grilled some hamburgers on the BBQ about dusk but only ate the small one. Ended up not leaving the boat all day. I tend to eat fairly lightly when left alone just out of shear laziness.

On Friday I did need to leave the boat, if only because I was developing a bit of an Alice's restaurant situation with the trash, and the ice was getting perilously low. One of my few habits that has carried over well from the house is when left alone, one of my first activities is to purge the fridge and freezer of all the stuff that has accumulated but will never be eaten (by humans).

I sanded down the rail I had masked in the areas that needed touch up, then wiped them down, first with a tack cloth, then some acetone. I touched up the areas with a chip brush because I had no intent of cleaning it when I was done. That went a little faster than expected, so I started working on the re-stitching on the leather wheel wrap. After watching a video on it I got maybe a foot done, but it's a start. I need to work on my knots for starting and stopping stitching.

I called Chelsea for her birthday then I headed to shore in the dinghy. First time off the boat in almost 48 hours. After a shower I decided to not drive in the Friday night concert traffic and stayed on foot. Quick hits of the french bakery, a pretty skeezy pizza parlor, and the liquor store I was good for the rest of the day. Back on the boat the Tortuga music festival was plenty loud for me. After dark I could see the lights from the stage.

The picture below is a sunrise from our mooring.

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Jet Airliner

03 - 04 April 2018

I finally submitted my application for a VHF license with the FCC. The bureaucracy and paperwork tied together with a very old school website (one ring to bind them!) had defeated us several times before. While technically I don't need one in the US, other countries still require a license, unless you already have one from your country. Since the FCC knows this there was no test, just $220 in fees.

This process also gives you a call sign (kind of cool) and an international MMSI number. This number gets programmed into your radios and EPIRBs. In the event of an emergency you push a button and your radio or EPIRB sends out a hail with this number, and hopefully your GPS lat/long location too. It becomes your zip code tying this hail to you and your contact information. You can get an MMSI in seconds from the BoatUS website but their database only works in the US. If the message is received by someone outside the US they go - huh?

We got the outboard propane tank filled, and the second galley tank at the same time. The outboard tanks lasts for about a month of daily usage, and the galley tanks even longer. With less than four gallons of propane to top them both up, this is definitely one of the more frugal aspects of boating. Also, I'd rather not have to look for propane while we're in the Bahamas.

We had dinner at Kelly's again, where Heather had the special of three Maine lobster tails for $20. They were certainly on the small side, but still a pretty good deal.

On Wednesday I pulled Heather's luggage out of the back cabin. She goes back to Arizona 3 - 4 times a year for some medical appointments, but this time I'm staying to work on the boat. She's staying with our oldest daughter Chelsea, and Friday just happens to be Chelsea's birthday. I'm sure they will find a way to have fun.

We had lunch at the Las Vegas Cuban food spot then did errands. I needed some supplies for a few of the projects while Heather was gone. When done with errands we still had some time and we ended up at a little Tiki bar off one of the canals. After wasting enough time we headed to the airport. While I've been to the FtL airport many times, I don't know if I've ever parked there, just returned rental cars. Well that was a whole different process, and involved a couple victory laps. We ended up closer to terminal 2 than 1 so we had a bit of a walk. Then Southwest counter was really bad. I'm no longer A-list (something about not flying in almost a year) so that didn't help. After an extraordinary amount of time to check one bag Heather was finally off.

I made it back to the boat in the dinghy by myself without getting wet, cooked some dinner on the bbq on the back rail, and fell asleep after a pint of Phish Food. An excellent start.

The fellow below, about three feet long, was sunning himself on the dock when I saw him. I must have gotten too close. Just after this picture he darted off the dock, diving four feet into the water, only surfacing when he was about 20 yards away. Not the sort of behavior I expect in a lizard.

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Easter

01 - 02 April 2018

On Sunday we celebrated Easter in the traditional manner - bottomless mimosas! I'm sure it's a tradition somewhere. If not, it should be. Anyway, after a brunch like that Heather had to drive home. Not much of note accomplished for the rest of the day. We watched the Rick Steve's review of all the different Easter traditions in Europe. Maybe a giant rabbit isn't as weird as I thought.

On Monday I checked over the house batteries one last time. They are all only a little over a year old and seem to be fine now. Being hooked up to shore power for a long time last year caused some sort of gradual degradation equivalent to the loss of one of our four house batteries. Recent usage and trickle charging from the solar panels seems to have taken care of whatever the issue was (maybe sulfation?). After checking the diesel engine oil I added almost a half a quart. I'm creeping up on full on the dipstick, but the total is still well short of the manual listed capacity. Hmm.

We had a late breakfast at Mother's again. They must own the building by now because how else they could stay in business? Given their prices they should be in the middle of nowhere. Conveniently, next door was an Ace Hardware. We needed some more oil change supplies since we had decided that all the oil covered tubing was a consumable. In addition, plastic tubing tends to go down the dip stick hole then curl up when it hits the bottom of the sump. The end of the hose assembly should be metal to prevent this.

I was looking for some brass tubing that would have been too expensive to toss each time, but Heather found a AC service kit with 25 feet of 1/4" soft copper tubing. Cheap and enough for years of oil changes - done. Along with some clear tubing for either side of the electric pump and a couple spare hose clamps and we were in business. After picking up a few more quarts of 30 weight we now have very few excuses for procrastinating on the next oil change. I'm sure we'll rise to the challenge somehow.

We went back to the same place that night for half-price burgers. I first went to Tap 42 for a happy hour after one of the boat buying class sessions with John K. The crowd is a little young for us, but that's true most places these days. The burgers were great and Heather actually ordered a drink. After about a third of it she declared a little too loudly that her lips were vibrating. So much for my designated driver. It was certainly my turn.

Below is a picture of the Fort Lauderdale beach. It's a very pretty beach, and it's always crowded with pretty people, good weather or bad.

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Oil Change

30-31 March 2018

On Friday we had more chores in preparation for the Bahamas. We had a Bahamas flag, a yellow quarantine flag, and even a diver down flag, but no US one. The previous owner, a great guy and Vietnam vet, would be appalled. We ordered a nice one.

We cancelled the Nassau legs of Heather's flights back to Phoenix and reserved her a rental car in Phoenix. We started the generator for the first time since last summer. It turned over for quite a while before it finally kicked over but was soon running smoothly. We need to start it every month or two even if we don't need it. We measured replacement diesel jugs. We bought the originals in Texas 18 months ago and the sun had already chewed them up. And we finished prepping for an oil change for the diesel.

After running around FtL for hours in their traffic (a toxic combination of inattentiveness and impatience) we went to the movies. We saw Ready Player One at the Imax in 3D. Despite neither of us being gamers we enjoyed it a lot. It was very pretty, sometimes a little loud even for me, and all the 80s era nostalgia was hard to resist for folks our age.

On Saturday we payed for our mooring thru Heather's return. We made not one but two trips to the French bakery between us and the beach, about a block away. After procrastinating as long as we could we got to the diesel oil change. The new electric pump worked fairly well but I should have warmed the oil up a little more. We didn't make too much of a mess, and it was way overdue.

I spent the rest of the daylight reviewing charts and guide books for the Bahamas. Heather made tacos for dinner and I ate way too much. A good day.

The picture below is looking southwest from our mooring before the last two were occupied. There is a music festival scheduled for the beach soon and every slip and mooring is now taken.

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Chores

28 - 29 March 2018

I finally found a touchless car wash locally and ran it thru. It got most of the last few weeks gunk off without removing the tape holding the side mirrors on. We made a quick trip to West for a new dinghy bow line and some more fuses for the peristaltic pump, which eats them in one or two uses. We looked at a chest type 12v freezer that we're considering to supplement our refrigeration.

I visited a place that allegedly services our propane outboard, and it turns out they actually do. Finally! But being one of the few places in the state that does they have a two week backlog. Have to work on scheduling that in when we're not on a mooring. Paddling or rowing an inflatable dinghy looks like a bitch. They also had spares, so I got a spare prop, since most of the paint has worn off ours and it's corroding at an impressive rate, and a brass cap to close out the one pound tank line, which should keep the thing from corroding like last time. After living in the desert most of my life the extent of corrosion in a saltwater environment still catches me off guard. Most recently, the zipper on a bag.

I went by Bluewater Charts and picked up Explorer charts for the near Bahamas, the Pavlidis guide to the Exumas, and a laminated placemat type general map of the Bahamas for us to keep on the wall for easy reference in our planning. When I got outside parked next to me was a Bentley SUV. I didn't even know they made them. Looked it up, and one is worth more than our house. Glad he was on the passenger side. I backed out slowly.

Thursday was kind of a slow day. We had lunch at Pei Wei, read, and grilled chicken on the sugar scoop for dinner. Below is a picture of the bascule bridge we're moored behind. We're kind of in the middle of town, and a couple blocks from the beach. The bridge opens twice an hour if needed, although the demand is less late at night.

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Taking on Water

26 - 27 March 2018

So we're still learning some things about our boat. We were already aware that the drainage for the shower and sink was below the waterline, making that through hull valve of primary importance. Well on Monday Heather cleaned the forward head, which pretty much involves taking a shower yourself. The water collects at the bottom and you push a little rubberized button to engage the shower sump pump. The pump was draining even more slowly than usual. After a while we got tired and left it with a little water below the grate, and a new addition for our to-do list in the morning.

When we returned a few hours later in the dark there were several inches of water in the shower. Heather was brave enough to taste it - salty! We were taking on water, albeit slowly. Taking on water is the slower, more controlled version of sinking. It certainly sounds better, and appearances matter. The sump pump was still doing a pretty pathetic job, and when we gave up a second time there was still an inch or so of water left. We closed the shower through hull valve (this time), and went to bed.

In the morning the shower drain hose was still firmly double clamped to the through hull. No leaks there. I pulled a little portable peristaltic pump I use for moving water from various places and drained the rest of the shower water into the sink and overboard. This works because while the sink connects to the same through hull as the shower, the sink itself is above the waterline, and gravity still works.

In doing some research I learned that the shower uses a diaphragm pump. If any little thing gets between the diaphragm and the seal, like say hair, then the pump will be slowed if not disabled. Like what happens in any shower drain. As a result, there is a little filter upstream of the pump. Yup, there it is. I remove the housing which includes the little stainless steel mesh screen, and boy is that nasty. Probably should have been cleaning that over the last couple years. Connected it all back up and the pump works better than it ever has (or at least since we got the boat).

So there's one last part of having debris between the diaphragm and the seal. After you turn off the pump the line is still full of water, continuously, from the outside of the boat to the last dregs in the shower sump. Ever drain a waterbed? The shower sump is below the waterline, so it is a lower place than the water outside the boat. Hmmm. All that is keeping the water you just removed, and a whole lot more, from siphoning back into the boat is that little rubber diaphragm and its seal. New boat rule, the shower through hull valve shall remain closed at all times unless in use.

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Mooring then Renaissance

24 -25 March 2018

On Saturday morning we moved over to a mooring. In looking over the weather, tides and current forecasts it looked like the 9:15a bridge opening was going to be easiest. After some line wrangling Heather backed right out cleanly. We called the bridge and waited for the next opening. Over in the mooring field Heather pointed us right into what little wind there was and stopped right over the ball, making my job pretty easy.

After getting settled there we lifted the dinghy off the foredeck, loaded up the outboard, and scooted across to the other side. We were off to the last weekend of the Florida Renaissance Festival. We went to to the Arizona Ren Fest for at least the first 10 years they had them but then seemed to lose interest. When Ded Bob acquired a younger and squeakier, less cranky and lechy squire much of the appeal for me was lost. We hadn't been to one in a long time.

These-days there was a weird stream of Harry Potter themes mixed in. I'm not sure some of the kids knew what the Renaissance was but it didn't seem to affect their enjoyment. Since it was in the middle of a large metropolitan area it was in a city park instead of a remote but permanent, ever growing facility like in AZ. On the other had, mature trees and lots of shade was a big plus.

There were lots of interesting costumes.

There was a nice trebuchet exhibition, where they shot large rocks with remarkable accuracy into the lake. I think I need one of these.

We went to the fighting for the first time in ages.

Heather went to the bird show while I hung out in the shade next to the mews. Maybe next year I could be a bird umbrella holder. Heather's favorite part was the glassblowing exhibition.

On Sunday I hooked up the bbq for the first time since Marathon last summer. We cooked up some skirt steak after marinating it in some Pirates Gold. So good.

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