On the Tip of the Tongue

(The Tongue of the Ocean, that is)

After leaving South Bight we headed to a tiny speck (only 1 square mile) of an island at the tip of the Tongue of the Ocean called Green Cay for a two night stay. We decided to stop here to be able to reduce the long distance we would have to travel next to get to our intended destination in the Jumentos. Hardly any one stops at Green Cay except native fisherman, so we didn't have a lot of information as to what we would expect; it was just going to be pot luck. You travel from water depths of 5000' with deep sapphire blue water to 20' with crystal clear water over pure white sand in an instant; the color change looks to be painted on the surface it is so dramatic.

The Edge

On the way we hooked a spanish mackeral, and then our most coveted trophy, a 30# dolphin. It took Eddie and Carol 2 hours to fillet the dolphin and clean up the cockpit of the boat while we were under way.

She's a beauty

We had to approach the island with caution, trying to determine where best to set our anchor based on the wind and wave information. As we were poking along peering carefully into the water so as not to hit any coral heads a bird flew into the pilothouse and perched on the grab railing. The cat immediately perked up and was on the move. Carol was at the helm, hoping the cat and/or the bird didn't make a mess while Eddie and Wayne were out trying to look into the water. It was just more confusion we didn't need, but some things you just can't plan for. We finally managed to find what seemed to be a sandy area with good holding to set the anchor. The only problem was that the island was so small we were prone to surging from both the north and the south ends of the island, causing FLUKE to continually roll back and forth, sometimes enough to where you had to grab on something to steady yourself. Sleeping proved challenging, as the winds were strong enough in the night to keep the surge active, sometimes making us feel like we were going to get rolled out of the bed or we were in a washing machine.

Tasty dolphin fingers were the main menu feast for the night. Cleaning and cooking fish right out of the water like that leaves no trace of fishy smell. The next night we had baked dolphin smothered with white sauce and sweet potato/banana casserole. The rest of the fish was tightly packed into the freezer for future island meals.

Green Cay is interesting from a geological perspective. While it is an island composed mostly of rocky outcroppings, lying low and flat with with small sandy beaches in a couple of the more protected coves, the rocks are huge slabs piled on each other, smooth enough to walk barefoot on. Even right at the water's edge, they aren't slippery, but are coarse and easy to get a foothold on. Ordinarily, the island rocks are jagged croppings of ancient eroded limestone, so sharp that even walking on them with sneakers is scary because you wonder if the stones will cut through the soles of your shoes.

Rock slabs on shoreline

The island has a goat herd, and we saw several goats and could hear them bleating when the wind blew right. We also saw evidence of someone else's goat roast, having found a fire pit and two goat skulls. I guess the fisherman like a change in the menu every once in a while!

SHAKE, RATTLE, AND ROLL

On April 22 we had the anchor hauled up by 0330 after a horrible night of getting tumbled back and forth. We were so tired, but had to take advantage of a wind window and move on before conditions worsened. Leaving the island area, we had to rely solely on instrumentation as it was so dark and cloudy we couldn't see anything for several hours until the sky began to lighten with the pending sunrise.

At 0600 the USS Hayes announced a securitee call saying that they had a 5 mile clear perimeter established for torpedo testing and that we needed to alter course to stay away. While we were less than thrilled to have to do this since we were already worried about making landfall before dark, we only had to make a small course change to stay far enough away and lost little time.

Seas were only 2-4', but very sloppy and almost directly off our port beam, causing a steady side roll. Visitor vomited, and Eddie was sick all day. We were so tired from the poor night's sleep and the ocean pounding and were relieved to finally get to the anchorage at 6:30 p.m., light enough to dodge all the coral heads that were scattered about and get the anchor down. Eddie dove the anchor to find we had just hooked on a ledge and were not fully entrenched into the bottom like we had hoped. Banking on the winds holding true for the night and 200' of heavy chain on the bottom, we decided to let it be for the night. An osprey landed on our spreader bar; I hoped it wouldn't poop because they are big birds!

Andros Island, The Bahamas

WHERE'S THE TREASURE?

To our surprise, the channel into Morgan's Bluff was clearly marked with functional floating buoys, something we seldom see in the Bahamas. We got our anchor to set on the first try and knew we would be comfortable for the night.

Morgan's Bluff was named after the 17th century pirate, Jack Sparrow. No, just joking, I really mean Sir Henry Morgan who was said to have left buried treasure somewhere in the area. Now the real treasure is fresh water, found in short supply in most of the Bahamas. Water tankers from Nassau make daily trips to Morgan's Bluff (thus, the marked channel) to take away 6 million gallons of water for use on the Bahamas most densely populated, and best known, island. That's why we're not there!

Morgan's Bluff

WE NEED A SPACE

We pulled up the anchor at 0630 on Saturday, April 14 in hopes of getting into the Fresh Creek settlement area early in the day and increasing our chances of being able to get a dock space at Lighthouse Yacht Club and Marina. We knew that other cruisers would be trying to head to safety too in anticipation of the impending frontal system.

Seas were only 2-4' off our port bow, but wave periods were short, making for a bumpy ride. Poor Visitor vomited (that should get him to lose some weight), and Eddie had to strap on his electronic relief band. We kept trying to hail LYCM on the VHF but couldn't get a response. Finally, Sugar Bear came to our aid informing us that he was not an employee, but on his boat at the dock and would let the dockmaster know that we wanted a space for the next couple of nights. He radioed back that there was room for us, and we were relieved to know that we had some place safe to go. We were put on the face dock, easy to get up next to on the slack tide, but could be very difficult to get away from if the tide is ripping by up Fresh Creek or out to the Tongue of the Ocean.

FLUKE at Fresh Creek

We needed to clear customs and immigration, and the dock master sent word to the airport requesting that a customs officer come to the dock to check us in. These officials have never worked for a fire department where speed is a virtue, and judging by the pace at which they all seem to move, probably were trained in the Vermont maple syrup forests. 3 hours passed, and the officer showed up. He reviewed all our boat papers, which were in proper order, but questioned why we had faxes for the animal import permits. I remarked that we had paid extra to get the forms faxed in the first place and had not ever received mailed copies before we departed. Then he informed us that it was not in his authority to act as the immigration officer and give us the 60 day permit that we wanted, but he would give us a 30 day permit. That means we will have to find an immigration officer within the next 30 days who will give us a 30 day extension. Sounds like crossing the Rio Grande is a lot easier!

Lighthouse Yacht Club and Marina is located in Fresh Creek, the administrative center for central Andros. The facility is small and really reminiscent of what the out island facilities were like in years gone by which suits our tastes just fine.

Marina Defense

Right now there are no mega or luxury yachts, and I'm not sure many ever do come in here. This is in stark contrast to the newer facilities we see being built on some of the other islands. The pace is slow in the whole area, made of the two towns of Andros Town and Coakley Town, connected by a single lane bridge. When we went for a walk across the bridge we had to stand parallel to the bridge railing while cars passed. Like a lot of the out island homes we see, tropical paint colors like pink, green, yellow, and purple are the rage. Some yards have big trees like mango, avocado, or fig to provide some much-needed shade. The roads are in disrepair and trash is littered everywhere.

Three Crabs

Like when Eddie was a kid

The main headquarters for Androisa Batik Factory is within walking distance of the marina. They call it a factory, but we wouldn't back in the states; it is more like a cottage industry. The building looks dilapidated and abandoned from the outside. The clothes are all handmade and dyed of beautiful tropical island colors. They make you feel cool just to look at them.

Androsia batik factory

The big event on Sunday was the arrival of the ferry from Nassau, carrying passengers, autos, and freight. The ferry dock was packed with everyone trying to get themselves and their belongings off at the same time and loaded into personal vehicles. All this is accomplished without any law enforcement to direct people or vehicular traffic; I figure in the States there would be at least two murders during each ferry event.

Ferry arrival

RESOLUTE, a Krogen 42 from Solomons Maryland, captained by Phil Chapman, was in a slip across from us. His wife had gone home to spend time with their kids, so we invited Phil over for dinner. He had enough stories of his fascinating boating life to last 3.5 hours!

I worked diligently to get this section of the blog completed with the hopes that we could make a posting before leaving the dock since there is WiFi here. However, the Batelco (the ATT of the Bahamas) service has been on the fritz since our arrival. That is typical for these parts. Hey mon, we're in the Bahamas! No telling when this will get posted now.

GETTING A GOOD BIGHT

Having started to get restless dock syndrome, we were relieved to find that the winds had subsided enough for us to leave LHYCM at 0900 on April 17. Our destination was to be South Bight, Mangrove Cay area. We set the anchor at 1330 off the Point Cays for what was to be a two night stay. Shortly thereafter a laughing gull landed on the bow railing to welcome our arrival.

We spent a morning "touring" Lisbon Town and taking a dinghy ride quite a ways up into Lisbon Creek. The town is really not much: a government building, 1 small store, a few private homes, and the fish camp belonging to Leroy Bannister.

Lisbon Creek two part sign

Lisbon Creek government building and public landing

Leroy came out to speak with us, as I'm sure he likes to do with all strangers. He will be 90 in June and is well-traveled, proud of his heritage, and accomplishments. On Andros he is renowned for his boat building skills, fishing prowess, and business hospitality. He told us his place was the first one to have running water and electricity. It is always interesting talking to the locals and hearing their point of views.

Carol and Eddie dinghied out to the barrier reef to try to do some bottom fishing. The water was full of billions of thimble jellyfish; some groups made the water densely brown. To minimize loosing our tackle by the fish pulling the lines under rocks, we used a looking bucket to peer over the dinghy into the water and watch the fish bite the hook. As soon as they took the bait we could see it and would yank up the fish before it could run under a rock. That technique also prevented us from hooking anything we didn't want to have to remove, like the huge stingray that was heading right for the bait. We get them any way we can!

On The Move Again, Finally!

NOTE: This post is being made out of Georgetown, Exuma because this is the first time we have had an internet connection. It was actually written about a month ago. Several more posts are ready to go and will follow until we catch up.

Hello friends, family, and even strangers who are following our adventures on FLUKE. We had hoped to post a couple of updates since our Nov. 6, 2006 arrival back in Vero Beach, but we were so busy tending to other activities.

We enjoyed getting together with, or hearing from, all those who have wished us well and wanted more details of our adventures. The whole crew appreciated the diverse company of all of those wonderful Sea Oaks Ocean VII people who have invited us to many of their social functions. We shamefully regret those of you who we should have gotten together with, but never made the rendezvous appointment – we talk about many of you regularly.

The most time was spent getting the land home ready to put on the real estate market. There was so much painting, cleaning, packing and repair work to be done. We finally made it to the market in the middle of January. You can take a wonderful video tour (with no obligation to have to talk to a Realtor!) of our dream home at: http://media.homestore.com/HWC9K349.htm

The market is so poor right now, so send us any interested buyers you can think of. We didn’t expect to be able to sell this winter, and we will close up the house for the summer when we get back and try again in the fall.

We all had medical appointments. Regular boat maintenance and provisioning for the Bahamas was very time-consuming, and expensive!

In March we unexpectedly lost one of our crew members. Dennis, age 12, was taking his regular afternoon nap when he suddenly awoke, let out a little cry and died within 20 seconds. He had just been at the vet for his annual exam 3 weeks earlier and was given a clean bill of health (it must have not been good for more than a month though!). No, his death wasn’t caused by the contaminated pet food; the vet said it was most likely a stroke of unknown origin. We humans, and the other animals, miss him.

Dennis

So, now that you have had a summary update, here is the latest travel news for those of you who are vicariously cruising aboard with us.

We are headed to an area of the Bahamas called the Jumentos (or Ragged Islands); we have not been this far south before. We will actually be south of the Tropic of Cancer. You will have to have a very detailed map to be able to see this tiny, croissant-shaped chain of islands. They are located south and west of Great Exuma and Long Island and will appear as tiny dots,if they show up at all. The chain is 110 miles long, but has virtually no development, industry, or even tourist trade. All visitors must be totally self-sufficient since there are no services of any kind available. These islands represent what our idea of fun in the out islands is all about: unspoiled nature with gin clear water that has good fishing, snorkeling, and beachcombing. Our time there will be limited by running out of fresh water (we haven’t gotten a watermaker yet) or being chased out by poor weather. Then we will have to head for civilization, most likely Georgetown on Great Exuma. We plan to return to Vero Beach the last week of May.

It’s now mid afternoon of Friday, April 13, 2007. We aren’t superstitious enough to believe today is an unlucky day, and you wouldn’t be either if you could see what we are looking at as I write this entry: sapphire blue water whose surface is just rippled by a slight breeze, fairy tale blue skies with cotton puffs of white clouds, and tiny dots of land in the hazy distance, Andros island, our destination for tonight.

We actually left the home dock at 5:00 p.m. on Wednesday, April 11. We made a 2 hour run south to Ft. Pierce where we tied up for the night at the dock belonging to Port Petroleum in hopes of being able to fuel up right away when they opened in the morning. Sitting alongside the face dock was Boat 762, a 60’ 1974 Vietnam war era countermeasures mine ship that still maintains her original military gray appearance, but is now in private hands used as a cruising home just like FLUKE. 762 is unique in that her hull is wood while her topsides are the typical gray steel you would expect to see on a military vessel. The hull is wood so that the ship would not be magnetic to detonate the mines laid out in the water before the crew could deactivate them. We always delight in seeing such unusual vessels and hearing their stories.

On Thursday morning we took on 510 gallons of fuel, enough so that we won’t have to get any in the Bahamas at almost twice the cost. Since weather and seas were so favorable, we decided to head out the inlet to open ocean and head south to the port of West Palm Beach, a full day’s travel for us. Staying close to shore would enable us to test out all the modifications and maintenance updates that had been performed and have assistance close at hand if anything failed.

Keeping abreast of the rapidly changing weather conditions throughout the day and hearing that a weather system with potentially gale force winds was supposed to arrive along the Florida coast by the weekend and since things were operating so well on FLUKE, we decided to skip going into WPB and just head south 4 more hours to Deerfield Beach. At that point we would evaluate the decision to head further south to Miami or make an immediate turn to the east and travel all night without stopping until we were well within shallow Bahamian waters and out of the potential treachery of the deeper parts of the ocean when the weather system catches up with us.

So, travel all night is just what we did. It was our first total night crossing of the Gulf Stream. We, and FLUKE, did great. Without a moon to shine a path for us, seas and skies were dark, but thankfully calm. Passage was slow across the Gulf Stream, as little as 5.1 knots, since the strong northerly current was pushing against our slightly southern course line. We passed our first Bahamian mark at 0500, and no one was seasick! We continued on through Northwest Providence channel, during which all previous passages seas were miserable and uncomfortable, but today it felt like we were on a lake.

We’ve been trolling fishing lines behind the boat. We’ve landed a tuna, medium-sized barracuda (no fun to take off the line with all those big teeth snapping at you!), and a decent sized bar jar who was fatally wounded by a big barracuda when I was reeling in the line. This is the first time we have ever trolled from the upper deck, so we are having to get used to working as a team with someone on the upper deck handling the rod and someone in the cockpit to pull in the fish. At least from the upper deck it is easy to see everything going on in the water, so we could watch the dark, sleek barracuda trying to hit the silvery fat jack.

Our latest weather information indicates that the system should reach us late tomorrow afternoon. Our plan is to anchor out tonight at Morgan’s Bluff on the north end of Andros. Then tomorrow we will have a short run down the eastern coastline of Andros to Fresh Creek where we will try to get into a marina for weather safety, clear customs, and hopefully be able to post this to the blog.

Andros in the largest island in the Bahamas (and the third largest in the Caribbean), but not one real popular with the tourist trade as of yet. There are only 8000 inhabitants, mostly concentrated in settlements along the eastern coastline, set behind the world's third longest barrier reef. Andros is popular for diving, and is said to be the bone-fishing capital of the world because of all the brilliant white shallow flats occupying the inland parts of the big island.