Bahamas in our Wake
Liz and I are incredibly fortunate. We have just completed a 90 day adventure in the island nation of the Bahamas, travelling over 2,000 miles and visiting 24 different islands. Swimming in crystal clear water. Warmed by the sun. Meeting interesting people. Every day something new.
I have dreamed of this kind of adventure all my life and have managed to find myself on quite few: three different summers on the Juneau Icefield at a research camp; a month long ski touring trip on the glaciers of Baffin Island; coring lake sediment along the arctic circle in Sweden; back packing the W trail in Torres del Paine. Each only made possible through commitment and planning. Each demanding skilled and trusted partners.
I am incredibly fortunate that Liz is also one of those adventurers. No, before she met me she had never imagined cruising on her own trawler, but she has her own sense of adventure, always willing to try something new. In 2022 she was willing to try 'camping' aboard Taku, a couple of nights in quiet waters. Two years later 20 consecutive days in Canada. Last winter 58 consecutive days aboard Navigator. She has taken to the idea of cruising like a duck takes to water.
Liz didn't just join me on my adventure, it was every bit as much her adventure as mine. We made it our adventure. Anyone who knows her knows she keeps the pantry stocked and puts together incredible meals. Before breakfast is finished she is already thinking about dinner. And no meal is complete without a protein, a starch and of course, vegetables. She adapted to the challenge of doing so aboard a trawler with limited refrigerator space and uncertainty about where the next grocery store might be. She also did her share of duties. Always ready to run on deck to drop anchor or toss lines ashore. She kept watch and kept me company when I was on watch. Always keeping up with changes in course, always asking questions. Keeping me on my toes.
She does all that while maintaining her equanimity. Composed, at ease, enjoying the moment. Of course we both get cranky on occasion (me more than her) but she makes the day a pleasure, says 'oh well' if something goes wrong and moves on, laughing at the smallest of jokes, keeping thing light. We spent 90 days together and every moment was a pleasure. We became closer. I am a lucky guy.
But we would be remiss if we overlooked the role that each of you played in our adventure. We knew that you were watching us, following us, and although it was just the two of us on Navigator, we had a sense of community. We knew people were following Liz on Facebook and we enjoyed the comments you made. We knew people reading my blog. Some of you sent us emails or texts. Some of you called us on the phone. We heard comments like 'we are living vicariously through you guys' on more than one occasion.
We enjoyed the calls we took. Some of you called us, many of you heard from us when we needed advice, or just needed to talk. My "Brain Trust" [you know who you are] were there for me when the macerator pump failed, or when I had doubts about a route - or just needed a pick me up. We spoke regularly with members of our family.
These were not insignificant 'touches' you gave us. You lifted our spirits. You filled our cup. Thank you.
In the last month since my last blog post a lot has happened. We traveled 700 miles on Navigator, arrived back at Hilton Head where Navigator will stay for a few months, spent a week with my daughter's family, spent some time with my cousins and then flew home to Maine. Honestly, we were pretty worn out by all of this. Happy, but glad to be heading home, but now I need to catch you all up.
When we entered the Bahamas we had loosely targeted April 15th to be back in the States. The whole time we had that date in the back of our minds. And once Fran and Bob left us in Hope Town on April 4th, the clock was really ticking. We had 250 miles of open water, including the Gulf Stream, separating us from Florida - and only 15 days left on our visa. From Florida we still faced another 400 miles back to Hilton Head. So once Fran and Bob left, our mind set was all about moving.
For Navigator that was going to be a multi-step process. First, we needed to round 'the Whale', a short but unavoidable stretch of open water between Elbow Cay and Green Turtle Cay. Out briefly into the open ocean and then through the reef back into the lagoon.
In Hope Town we waited 2 days for a window to round the Whale. Realizing the winds were going to pick right back up the next day, we were lucky enough to get a slip at Donny's Marina in Green Turtle Cay. We ended up stuck there for 8 nights waiting out the weather.
Donny's turned out to be a highlight of the trip. A small, one man marina, Donny was the dock hand, the dock master, the front office, the maintenance guy and security guard. He charged us for 8 nights just a shade more that what we paid at other marinas for one night. His marina was full of interesting people and events like the season ending pig roast and the daily Ladies Mahjong game. Daniel, one of our neighbors, immediately drew Liz into that group.
That positioned us to take advantage of a potential window to cross from Great Sale to Ft Pierce on Thursday the 16th. But as we waited there, Thursday's window morphed into Friday, and then into Saturday. After gathering input from the Brain Trust (thanks to both Ted and Bill) we decided to improve our chances by moving to Grand Bahama. So the night of 17th, 12 days after leaving Hope Town, we were anchored at Ginn Sur Mer on the West End of Grand Bahama poised to make our Gulf Stream crossing.
Ginn Sur Mer anchorage was the location of a $5b real estate development project that failed in the housing bubble of 2008, leaving just a bunch of paved roads, fire hydrants, and a beautiful lagoon designed for 500 yachts. It has become an unofficial gathering place for cruisers waiting to cross, kind of like RV'ers using Walmart parking lots for overnight stays. We anchored there with about 30 other boats, all waiting for the same thing.
We left Ginn Sur Mer just before 7 AM Saturday morning with a 100 miles separating us from Ft Pierce Inlet. A long day at 8 mph. We planned to arrive at the entrance to the inlet at 5:50 PM, at slack water after low tide and ride the flood tide in. That would give us a few hours to find an anchorage before dark.
As we crossed, the challenge wasn't the conditions, it was the ship traffic. Right away we encountered a huge tanker which looked to cross in front of us. It takes careful observation to decide if a ship will pass ahead of you, or if it will pass astern of you - and how close. Not something you want to screw up. Approaching 300,000 MT displacement, and moving 15+ mph they can't stop. My practice is to check their positions every few minutes on AIS especially the relative bearing. If the relative bearing does not change over time, you are on a collision course - and need to take evasive action.
Plata Lucky, did in fact cross ahead of us, but with little margin for error. I elected to slow down to let her pass with plenty of separation. No sooner than Plata Lucky passed ahead there was the tanker Hanover Square heading at us from the opposite direction. This time I chose to speed up and pass ahead. Watching her enormous bow wave get closer and closer was a bit unnerving but we got safely past.
As we continued the crossing we heard some radio traffic from Coast Guard Miami trying to call a vessel in distress. One of the challenges of radio communication is that it typically is limited to line of sight - that means if you can't see Miami directly, they can't talk to you directly. The Coast Guard was relying on other boaters to relay messages. As we approached Ft Pierce a Coast Guard C130 flew low, right over us. A few seconds later we heard "Navigator, Navigator, this is US Coast Guard Aircraft 6548". They obviously were conducting a search pattern and simply wanted to know if we had seen or heard anything. We reported back that we had not. We do not know what the outcome of their search was.
We hit the entrance to Ft. Pierce at 5:40 and rode the tide up into the Indian River accompanied by a lot of Saturday boat traffic. Welcome back to the States! But once we turned north along the Indian River, it quieted down and we made our anchorage with the last light of the day. Whew! 120 miles, almost 14 hours, crossing big ships, talking to the Coast Guard (and a few crazy waves in the Gulf Stream) but we were at anchor, back in the US after 73 days in the Bahamas
I would like to say that the remaining distance in the protected waters of the ICW was uneventful, however, the trip was not without some notable occurrences. First, we had another front descend on us in Titusville. We knew it was coming so we retreated to the Municipal Marina to ride it out. At 12:30 in the morning I awoke to find the boat being rocked and pitched accompanied by an occasional thumping sound - you never want to think your boat is hitting on something solid. On deck, in 30 to 40 knot wind driven rain I found the boat being pummel by waves coming through the opening in the break wall and was banging against one of the pilings. I set out a few additional lines, tightened some others and managed to eliminate the banging. More secure, I climbed back into bed, but the night was anything but gentle.
A few days later, along the last stretch of ICW in Florida, we had to pass under a rail road swing bridge. Most draw bridges are attended by an operator, but this one is not. Normally open, it only closes if a train needs to cross - automatically. Most of these 'automatic' brodges have signals to warn you of impending closure, but apparently not this one. As we entered between the bridge fenders, running against a strong current, I said to Liz: "is the bridge moving?" Slowly at first, almost unnoticeably, the bridge was in fact beginning to close. We got through, but it was not a fun few minutes. There was no way we could stop or make a U turn. All I could do was increase the throttle and hope we would get clear!
Another, more pleasant event worth noting occurred at Cumberland Island National Seashore, one of our favorite places to anchor in Georgia. We came in late on a beautiful afternoon and before we even dropped anchor we noticed feral pigs running about on the shoreline. Very cute. Almost immediately afterward a band of wild horses came out of the woods onto the salt marsh. We watched them as they enjoyed grazing on the marsh grass. Later we saw a Kingfisher, and a baby alligator. What a beautiful spot!
We stayed a week and a half in Hilton Head getting Navigator put to bed in the marina and enjoying some family time. We stayed with Rob and Agneta, saw Susan and Paul and had the added treat of a visit from my daughter Jessica, her husband Mike and their son George. We hung out with them in an AirBnB for a week on the beach.
We are back in Maine now. A time to slow down and catch up on things. The mail. Neighbors. Sleep. We are enjoying the foods we missed. Pizza, steak, lamb chops, waffles. We are glad to be home.
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