May 26, 2009.

Hey look!, guess who’s still not in Beaufort. The day after our marathon trip from Vero Beach up to Charleston we were up and underway for Beaufort, NC.

0500 came way too quickly but we had to be underway in order to arrive during daylight hours. The forecast for today was calling for light winds from the east that would veer to the southeast and build to 10 to 15 knots. As usual, no, not even close.

Our course would have us on a heading of 68 degrees for the first 110 miles. I figured that we would have to motor sail into the light east winds so the morning went pretty much according to plan. The wind was starting to veer but instead of coming more from the south it started to veer out of the north. We were now faced with the prospect of having to drop sail and motor directly into the wind all the way to Beaufort.

At least the seas were calm until NOAA came on the radio and revised the forecast. The new forecast had winds in the 15 to 25 knot range with violent thunderstorms coming straight out of the northeast. The prospect of pounding into big winds and building seas for close to 200 miles was less than attractive.

We could divert to the Cape Fear River but our arrival would be somewhere around 0200. Heading into someplace called Cape Fear in the middle of a moonless night was not going to be an option. So we decided to alter the plans even further and stop in Georgetown.

While I’m bitching about the weather, how’s this for irony. The other night we were in the middle of the Gulf Stream, 60 miles offshore surrounded by the most intense display of lightning I’ve ever seen. We were literally the tallest metal thing for 60 miles in any direction and sailed away unscathed. That same series of storm cells happened upon the Florida neighborhood of weather guru Chris Parker. His antenna was struck by lightning resulting in the destruction of all of his communication, computers and forecasting equipment. I found it ironic. Maybe even divine retribution, kinda like God looking down and saying “didn’t see this coming did ya, prediction boy” At least nobody was hurt…lightning on the water just scares the crap outta me.

Another thing that happened during our trip north the other night was some sort of miracle. A boat called the Coast Guard and reported finding an unoccupied small boat bobbing about 20 miles east of Miami. Rough seas, violent thunderstorms and an empty boat. Seems like somebody fell out of his boat and was adrift in horrible conditions. Two hours later several miles away, a small freighter on its way back from the Bahamas came across a guy treading water out in the middle of the freaking ocean. They weren’t out looking for him, they just tripped across him. He was rescued and didn’t need medical attention. Lucky guy.

Anyway, back to today. Once we made landfall we were inundated with the scourge of the Carolinas, The Green Head fly. The biggest reason to go offshore in Georgia and South Carolina is the shallow water and the damn Green Head flies. We killed thousands of them in the time it took us to travel the 7 miles from the inlet until we dropped our hook. I’m not sure why but they only show up while you're underway. As soon as you drop the hook they all disappear. Their vicious, disgusting and its pure pleasure killing as many of the little rat bastards as possible. In fact, I hope it hurts when they die. I hope they realize what’s happening as the swatter is just about to make contact. I even hope their families realize that they’re gone and are broken hearted. Yeah, I hate the Green Heads.

May 25, 2009.

*Warning* Very long trip report. Grab a sandwich; I’ve got a lot to say.

I’m in a little bit of a quandary about how to begin this installment of the blog. I could go with the time tested….Hey, Guess who got their asses kicked? But it wasn’t that bad and that headline is getting a little old. So I’ll borrow from the classics, to quote Snoopy…………..
It was a dark and stormy night……

It really begins with us leaving the fuel dock in Vero Beach at 0800 hours. We didn’t get underway earlier because we wanted to hear what Chris Parker said about the weather before we even slipped the mooring lines. It boiled down to two choices. Leave on Saturday and face the prospect of a continuous line of squalls marching north along the Florida coast. This would provide wind for sailing but the squalls could contain anywhere from 30 to 40 knots of wind. Or we could wait until Sunday and have less squalls but very little breeze and probably have to motor the entire way north. We’ll take windy and stormy weather for $100 Alex.

We pulled out of the mooring field and into the ICW and were immediately hit with a 30 knot squall. It passed quickly and we motored the 2 hours south to the inlet at Fort Pierce. As you pass through the bridge at Fort Pierce you can catch a glimpse of the Fort Pierce Inlet. When Christy saw it she said “Oh my God, it’s all breakers”. That’s never good. We turned down the channel leading to the inlet and we took a wide turn so we could both catch another glimpse before committing to transiting the inlet.

The water was a little rougher than I had hoped, but the breakers looked to be fairly small. Right at that moment we were set upon by another nasty little squall with instant wind and a quick downpour. We decided to pull off to the side of the channel and drop the hook and let this squall pass while we decided what to do. I booted up the laptop and found that we had internet so I again checked all the weather sources we have and things still pretty much looked the same.

At around noon a little patch of blue came sliding up the coast so we decided it looked like an opportunity for us to get going. We hauled the anchor and turned the corner and got our first real good look at the inlet.

The waves were breaking all the way across with one row of white water after another heading in. We rode the ebbing tide out as the wind came in, so what we had was a rage. As we got closer to the oncoming waves we realized that they were a lot nastier than they at first appeared. Then we also realized that they weren’t moving. They were just kind of standing there…waiting. The tide rushing out and the wind blowing in had formed these perfect malevolent walls of standing water. People in their little center consoles were driving out to the beginning of the inlet to take a peak before turning around and heading back in to safety. Both jetties were lined with fishermen, photographers and people out to look at the conditions. I’m sure there are a few spectacular pictures of us circulating the internet right now, probably with the heading “What the hell were they thinking?”

The waves were 8 feet tall or so and very, very close together. They were so close together that it was deceiving as to their apparent size, ya know, until it was too late. When we rode up the first one we kinda collapsed onto the second one causing a huge explosion of water out from beneath both sides of Verandas bow. Before the bow could recover we drove down into the base of the third wave. We’ve driven our anchors into waves before, but this was the first time we’ve ever buried the entire bow rail. We literally had the first third of the boat completely buried. Then the rise of the next wave lifted Veranda up and flung all that water up in an enormous explosion of water and spray. Once the boat started to move forward again we repeated this series of events 2 more times until the waves got a little further apart. It had to be impressive as hell to watch from the jetties, being in the boat, well, it made me kinda sad.

Everybody I know has a story about getting their ass kicked in one of the cuts between the Bahamanian Cays, us included. Now I laugh at those stories.

Once out into the ocean things weren’t great, but they beat the hell out of the inlet. The 4 to 6 foot seas we had been promised were more like 6 to 8 feet. We had decent wind to sail north, but we had no chance of getting out to the Gulf Stream due to the continuous line of northbound squalls between us and the Gulf Stream. We opted to parallel the squalls and hope for a break to dart through to the Gulf Stream. You know, as fast as our 30,000 pound boat can dart.

Finally, our decision was made for us as the parade of squalls started to veer towards shore. So right after dark we took our shot and headed offshore. We actually hit a perfect spot and were rewarded with some of the best stargazing we’ve ever done. Beautiful stars against a circle of black sky above us. Once out in the Gulf Stream we found ourselves a part of the procession of storm cells headed north. All the cells around us were alive with lightning striking the water.

Eventually the storm cell behind us overtook us and our stargazing was done. What we received in exchange was the most beautiful, most horrific display of lightning we’ve ever seen. It was intense, it was spellbinding and it would have been a whole lot cooler if we weren’t bobbing along in our boat in the middle of it. There were huge bolts of electricity blasting down out of the sky and they would splinter off into several probing “fingers” that danced along the surface as the power discharged into the water. It was like watching the hand of God at work. It was humbling and scary as hell, oh yeah and loud too.

Thankfully, our individual storm cell decided it was through with the light show and decided to teach us something about rain. I can’t begin to describe how hard it rained.

The scuppers on our boat are designed too put the ocean back in the ocean when it makes its way up onto the boat. It rained so hard that our scuppers were overwhelmed and the water filled the bulwarks to the brim and the excess water cascaded over the toe rails and into the ocean. We literally could see nothing at all, I couldn’t see the water next to the boat, it was almost disorienting. I had no idea that rain could be so loud, we really couldn’t speak to each other. It rained that way for close to 4 hours straight…..and then thankfully it stopped.

The whole time we were barreling along anywhere from 7 to 10 knots with a double reef in the main and a very small slice of jib out. As each squall overtook us it showed us some lightning, some gave us some rain and they all threw some wind our way. After 150 miles the remaining squalls were turning in towards the coast and running up on shore near the Florida / Georgia border. This left us 70 miles offshore with just a hint of breeze riding the Gulf Stream north.

We were only “sailing” at about 3 ½ knots with the streams boost bringing us up to a respectable 6 knots or so. Right when we got to our decision spot, the wind died completely. Absolutely no wind. We still had about 200 miles to get to Beaufort, NC so we decided to head straight north for the 100 mile trip to Charleston.

Another factor in our decision to divert to Charleston was to give me some time at anchor to attend to a few “issues” that had come up.

Our lazy jack system suffers from a serious design flaw. The lazy jacks support the stack pack (large bag that contains the sail when it’s down). So we can’t really ease the lazy jacks as they should be when we’re under sail. During one of the squalls the port side lazy jacks parted and flopped to the deck. This requires a trip up the mast to repair.

We made the whole trip with a double reef in the main. We were a little slow when the wind was light but we couldn’t take chances having too much sail up when the squalls were overtaking us in the pitch dark. But anyway, our reefing line sort of exploded during one of the violent little blows. The line was several years old so I was glad it failed rather than having the sail get shredded. I made a temporary repair by switching the first reefs line over to become the second reef line.

One of the semi bright spots of our trip was the fact that we caught a large fish. We fought and successfully landed what we thought was a Little Tunny. Unfortunately it turned out to be the almost identical yet regrettably inedible Frigate Mackerel. The bad part about this was that the only way to tell them apart is to fillet them. I felt bad about killing a fish that we ended up not eating but probably not as bad as he did.

So after 340 mostly boisterous miles we dropped the hook in the Ashlee River in Charleston, SC. The trip as a whole really wasn’t too bad. The inlet had all the ingredients of a disaster film, the lightning was truly terrifying, the rain was miserable but other than that it was pretty good.

I repaired the reefing line and jury rigged the lazy jacks. I figured that we would be here for a day or two but then Christy told me that we were heading out in the morning. So in the morning we’re once again off for Beaufort, NC. It’s about 200 miles so we’ll be up and underway by 0500 to assure a daytime arrival the next day.

May 22, 2009.

Okay, here’s the plan. Well, the plan at this minute...in 10 more minutes who the hell knows.

The weather still looks like a go for tomorrow. The forecast is for 15 to 20 knots out of the east with 5 foot seas. The downside is that there is also a 40% chance of rain and squalls. The even lower downside is that the squalls can contain winds in the 30 to 40 knot range. As we get further offshore the ferocity and frequency of the possible squalls is supposed to diminish, so that’s an upside.

Our base plan is to head offshore to a little west of 79 ½ ° longitude which should put us in about the center of the northbound gulf stream. By riding the gulf streams current we should get an average of a 2 knot boost in speed over ground. Once there, we’ll be running just about due north for about 200 miles. At this point we can decide where to go, based on the conditions we’re experiencing and how we’re physically holding up.

I’ve checked the weather along our route at the times I expect to be at various locations. The squall activity should diminish, while the breeze should remain steady in the 10 to 15 knot range. When we get to about 79 ½° west and 30 ½° north, we’ll have a decision to make.

If the wind remains straight out of the east it may get a little sloppy heading off to the northeast in an effort to get to Beaufort, NC. If we can only make north northeast then we have the option of Georgetown, SC. Or if the wind remains straight out of the east we may opt to continue pretty much dead north and right into Charleston, SC.

Chris Parkers report has us pretty much aiming for Beaufort, NC but we’ll have to see how it all plays out. He says that by the time we get to our decision spot the wind should be clocking and coming more out of the south which would be perfect for us to head to the northeast. He’s even saying that this would be a decent window for continuing on and up around Cape Hatteras. This would give us the ability of cutting out the five days of being on the inside from Beaufort, NC up into the Chesapeake. It would end up adding close to 30 hours to our trip so we’ll have to see how we’re making out. He does warn that whatever we do we should be inside by late Thursday as the wind will star blowing from the north. I haven’t even looked to see if it’s possible but if we could make it to Solomons Island, Md. by then it would be great. I dunno, once we get past Charleston everything else is gravy so we’ll leave it up in the air for now.

So with the plan sorta set we spent the day getting the boat ready for the trip. Christy made a couple of different reheatable meals for the trip such as a big pot of chili and a huge pan of lasagna. We also raised the dinghy and stowed the outboard on the stern rail.

I donned my wetsuit and cleaned the propeller and shaft of the creatures that had taken hold during our stay here. We had a half dozen sunshades and rain screens up that needed to be put away. We checked the weather 4800 times today and plotted the location of the gulf stream as of today. Then of course, there was laundry to do and fluids to check in the engine room. And yes, the bilge pump is working.

So once we hit the fuel dock in the morning for some diesel, some water and a pumpout Veranda will be on her way…..somewhere.

May 20, 2009.

Well, it’s Wednesday and we’re still here. It rained for about 30 hours straight alternating between raining hard and raining really really hard.

Yesterday morning we heard the Coast Guards side of the conversation they were having with the schooner Corsair who left on Saturday morning. Since they had left the mooring field here on Saturday and Cape Canaveral is only 65 miles away, something must have happened. We don’t know for sure but evidently the Corsair must have stopped in Fort Pierce for some length of time before heading out. Which makes even less sense than leaving on Saturday did.

So even after stopping off in Fort Pierce they headed out just before the approaching cold front. They only got as far as Cape Canaveral before the sea Gods decided to make an example of them. The coast guard established a 30 minutes Comms schedule with them. So every 30 minutes the coast guard would hail them and get an updated position from them as they made their way to the safety of the port of Cape Canaveral.

I'm not sure if they had a mechanical failure or if they just needed guidance but Towboat US was dispatched to meet them at the outer marker to assist them to enter the harbor. So its good to know that they are safe and all I can say is thank God we decided to delay our departure. Christy still wouldn’t be speaking to me if we had run into those conditions.

I got up at 0630 to listen to Chris Parker’s weather synopsis this morning. He said that the sea state off Cape Canaveral was still 15 to 18 foot waves. I can’t imagine what Corsair had run into the day before….thank God we didn’t go.

Anyway, C.P.’s forecast says that we should have good conditions for heading out on Saturday morning……so I guess we’ll have to see.

May 18, 2009.

We’ve been watching the weather and it looks like we’ll be here for a few more days. I had wanted to leave on Saturday morning but that would have led to an ass kicking off the coast of Georgia. So imagine my surprise when one of the other boats in the anchorage slipped their lines and headed out.

Not just any boat either. This boat is a fifty something foot schooner that’s been here in the mooring field every time we’ve ever been here. I mean this boat is practically a permanent fixture here. So this guy decided this would be the time to hire some crew and head out for North Carolina. I hope it works out for them but I’m pretty sure it’s gonna be ugly.

So while we were waiting here we decided to devote our time on Sunday to making the dogs look like Schnauzers again. Secretly I was hoping that all day Sunday would actually be enough time to make them presentable and if somebody was able to recognize them as being Schnauzers, well….bonus!

We started out with Christy watching our Schnauzer grooming video while taking copious notes. Then she insisted that I watch the video while she got started by cleaning the dog’s ears and trimming their nails. So I watched the video and committed all the subtle nuances and techniques to memory for possible later use.

We decided to do the grooming out on the aft deck and after about 5 minutes we realized that it was hot as hell out. We had to stop and hang our large shade screen so we could work in reasonable comfort.

Once Tucker was trussed up so he couldn’t move I picked up the electric shears to get started. That’s when I realized that Christy had been using the shears as a paperweight to hold something down. Once the weight was removed we both watched as her mornings notes took flight and landed in the water. In fact there was so much ink on the page due to the sheer volume of notes that they sank almost immediately. Oh well, I don’t need no stinking notes, I committed it all to memoryish, mostly, sorta, kinda…..

First Tucker and then Molly. We sheared enough gobs of curly hair to build a spare Schnauzer. We trimmed around the naughty bits, eyes and ears with nary a scratch. They actually came out pretty good and it only took about 5 freaking hours. Once they were trimmed we bathed them and made them smell as good as they look. Mr. Williams House of Hair and Fabulosity now caters to the upscale Schnauzer crowd as well.

Today we had to take the bus to town to run some errands. We got back to the boat just before the cold front arrived. We had just enough time to prepare the boat for the coming inclement weather. We closed this and that and hung a few weather shades that would enable us to leave a hatch and some ports open even in the driving rain. Remember, when living on a boat, ventilation is your friend.

This is actually the first real rain that we’ve seen since January. So once it started to really pour I stripped to my skivvies and went out on deck and gave the boat a scrubbing with the deck brush. Besides the rainwater is really good for my hair. Lol.

It’s now Monday evening and it’s raining steadily. The forecast was right, it’s a good thing we didn’t head out on Saturday, there would have been much sorrow in the village. As of now Wednesday, Thursday is starting to look like a go for launch. We’ll see….

May 17, 2009.

I spent some time today straightening out some video and photo files. I thought some of you might enjoy this one....

May 15, 2009.

It’s been awhile since I’ve last written. We’ve been busy running around doing personal stuff, seeing people and taking care of land based issues. We’ve gotten everything accomplished that we wanted too so we’re clear to once again start heading north.

We spent today getting the boat squared away. If you remember we left our bicycles at the Far Niente’s house while we went to the Bahamas. So today we picked the bikes up and went about trying to figure out how the hell we ever put them in the boat.

We rearranged this and that and finally squeezed them into the vee berth. While we were at it we emptied several of the food lockers to bring our inventory up to date.

We keep most of our food stores in 6 different lockers. Posted out of sight, adjacent to each locker is an inventory of that locker’s contents. This way when you remove a jar of jelly, some salad dressing or a can of black beans you’re supposed to adjust the inventory sheet. Even though we try to keep everything accurate we have to do a physical inventory every 6 months or so.


The attached photos show the contents of just one of our lockers. Once reinventoried it was all put away and then it was on to the next locker.

I wanted to get underway on Saturday morning but the weather doesn’t seem to feel like cooperating. I’d like to go out Fort Pierce inlet and jump in the gulf stream and head straight for Beaufort, NC. Tomorrow would be a pleasant day on the water off the coast of Florida. The problem is that by the time we get up to South Carolina a cold front is supposed to pass through. Our 10 to 15 knot beam reach would morph into a 30 to 40 knot, on the nose, ass kicking. Been there, done that, don’t need to do it again.

What we really need is a nice 3 to 4 day window. We could go out and knock out part of the trip but then we’d be stuck for a day or 3 while the weather settles so we might as well do our waiting right here in Vero.

May 7, 2009.

I’ve been having to deal with head issues every 3 months or so and it was time to care of business once and for all.

When the head has been pumping slowly I usually give it the Nigel Calder approved muriatic acid treatment. This usually dissolves the immediate problem but doesn’t really help against the long term build up of “sediment” in the plumbing.

The problem again reared its ugly head and it was time to face the music. There was so much back pressure that nothing was going anywhere. I decided to completely disassemble the pump and give it a complete rebuild. The pump is a pretty simple assembly although pretty disgusting. I disassembled it and cleaned all the parts, replaced all the seals and put everything back together. The pump body itself had been pretty caked with sediment and some of it had made its way into the joker valve yet again.

Now with everything either clean or new I was pretty disappointed to find that once assembled, pulling the lever still didn’t send anything anywhere. Crap. That means that one of the 1 ½ inch hoses has to be clogged.

That means I’m going to have to drain the Lectra San and remove the 2 big hoses. I had already replaced the rest of the hoses in the system so I know that they’re in good shape. I decided that if I’m gonna go to the trouble of removing these 2 hoses then I want to replace them while I’m at it so everything will be fairly new. So I’ll wait for morning to remove them so once I have them out I can measure them and head over to West Marine and buy new ones.

I slept fitfully as I tossed and turned while dreaming of the prospect of opening up the Lectra San again. In the morning I emptied out the locker that holds the Lectra San. Don’t forget that we just got back from the Bahamas and yet I was astonished to find that we still had 31 rolls of toilet paper aboard. Christy might have a fetish that I’m not aware of.

Anyway, I watched as Christy assumed her role in dealing with head issues; she dinghied ashore to do laundry. I drained the Lectra San into a bucket and poured it down the forward head so the “flushins” would go into our forward holding tank. Then I removed the longer of the 2 hoses. This hose was downstream from our Lectra San and went to the vented loop in our system. When I peered inside I was pleased to find that it was clean as a whistle. I guess the Lectra San really does do a number on the flushins as there was no sediment build up in the hose at all.

This left the shorter of the 2 hoses; the one that runs from the toilet directly to the Lectra San. It was only 4 feet long but passed through 2 bulkheads and removing it was like arm wrestling an Anaconda. The thing was kicking my ass but I finally prevailed. When it was removed I was pleased to see that indeed this had been our problem.

The 1 ½ inch hose was closed up so badly that the opening was less than a quarter of an inch wide at either end. I don’t know about you but expecting to stuff one of my turds through a quarter inch opening would be unreasonable. David Copperfield couldn’t make that happen.

Since my cup is always half full, even when I’m up to my elbows in excrement, I thought I might have a piece of hose on board long enough to replace the clogged one. Even better was the fact that the hose was in the first place I looked and sure enough, perfect fit.

So after an extensive clean up of my tools, the bathroom and myself things are once again happening like they should when the magic happy handle is pulled. Afterwards I played a bit of charades with the dogs which they really seem to enjoy. Here's Tucker doing his John F. Kennedy.

May 6, 2009.

We survived the Cinco de Mayo party with no ill effects. It was a nice time. I had no idea just how many different Mexican chip and dip combinations there could possibly be. There had just been a weather window so dozens of boats had crossed back from the Bahamas so the mooring field had really filled up. It was good to see so many of our friends again.

Several months ago Gary from the Packet Inn and I had an interesting conversation. It seems that he had read something about building a water filled manifold to add to your cars engine. The thing was supposed to increase gas mileage 5 fold just by using water and 40 dollars worth of parts.

I do realize that almost everything you read on the internet is true (ie, the mayonnaise / Titanic incident, right Jay lol) but for some unknown reason I was skeptical. I know they have water injection in high powered race cars. But that is to cool the combustion chamber and has nothing to do with gas mileage.

I mean, doesn’t it make sense that if this “technology” worked that auto makers would be adding it to cars at the factory so they could charge you through the nose for it. Yeah, I’m skeptical alright.

So today when we walked out of one of the stores I kinda surprised to actually see one of these homebuilt units on the front of a jeep. Some PVC pipe, some clear plastic tubing and I swear to god, a Mason jar. I actually felt a little bad for the guy. He’s probably the guy who falls for those Nigerian; I wanna send you money scams. He was probably on the way to the bank to check his balance.

May 5, 2009.

As you probably know Christy and I are big fans of history. The history of some of the places we’ve visited has been just amazing. Since we’re sitting here in Vero we haven’t seen or done anything new, but I did read something that I never knew, so I think I’ll share.

Most people don't know that back in 1912, Hellman's mayonnaise was manufactured in England. The supposedly unsinkable Titanic was carrying 12,000 jars of the condiment scheduled for delivery in Vera Cruz, Mexico which was to be the next port of call for the great ship after New York City.

The Mexican people were eagerly awaiting delivery and when the great ship went down, they were disconsolate with the loss. So much so that they declared a national day of mourning which they still observe today. It is known, of course, as Sinko de Mayo.

Sorry for that but it’s Cinco De Mayo, and I really had nothing else to say. There’s a Mexican themed cruisers get together up at the marina this evening so that’s what’s on tap for us. Adios mi amigos.

May 3, 2009.

We’ve been sitting here in Vero Beach for a few days. We’ve taken advantage of the bus system to do a little food and clothes shopping.

On Friday I went for the ride to Fort Lauderdale with Jay and Greg from Far Niente and My Destiny. Jay’s wind generator had died just before they departed for the Bahamas and there hadn’t been time to deal with it beforehand. Now that they’re back in the states he had dropped it off at an approved repair facility down in Lauderdale.

It’s about an 85 mile drive to Fort Lauderdale but I also had a reason for wanting to go. Blue Water Books is the largest retailer of nautical publications in the country. Since my buddy Barrack is going to do his best to allow me to visit Cuba I thought that perhaps we should get a few charts before the rush.

Picking up Jays newly repaired wind generator was easy and went quickly. Best of all that it was free, they honored the 3 year warrantee. After that we headed over to Blue Water Books. I was a little disappointed at first when I realized that the most relevant cruising guide to Cuba had been written by Nigel Calder almost 10 years ago. That part was a little disappointing. The big disappointment was when I looked at the price and the thing was 70 freaking dollars. Considering that there’s probably been 2 dozen major hurricanes since it was written most of the crap has probably been blown away. I figured I could get it used on the internet through Amazon for a lot less, so I took a pass on the cruising guide.

Things went just a bit better when I got to the charts themselves. Cuba has about 2000 miles of coastline. As a result the coastline has been divided up into a series of 7 chart books. A single chartbook was 80 dollars. Similar chartbooks dealing with the US or Bahamas run between 50 and 60 dollars and are extremely detailed. These charts of Cuba could best be described as “a little vague”.

These chartbooks are also fairly rare so Blue Water Books has been selling full sized photo copies of the book. The good part is that the black and white copies are 50 bucks apiece. I can always get Christy some colored pencils and have her color in the land to make it easier to avoid.

So I got 2 of the chartbooks that deal with the section of the north shore of Cuba as that would probably be the extent of our first foray into the country. I also picked up a single chart that covers the entire Cay Sal Bank and another single page that shows the entire country of Cuba.

The single page of Cuba will be good for planning as it puts everything into perspective with the chartbooks providing somewhat more detail. The chart of the Cay Sal Bank will enable us to do some “dream cruising” as if all the cruising we’ve done hasn’t been already dream cruising.

The Cay Sal Bank is actually a part of the Bahamas. The lobsters there are plentiful. So once checked into the Bahamas you are able to do all the spearfishing you want. The Cay Sal Bank is right under our nose but still way off the beaten path. It’s located in the triangle between Florida, Andros in the Bahamas and the north shore of Cuba. There’s no settlement or people living there so there is no place to check into the country on the Cay Sal Bank. So “technically” the easiest thing to do would be to check into the Bahamas in Bimini and then head south for 120 miles along the edge of the Gulf Stream. Shallows to the east and the northward bound Gulf Stream to the west makes this route less than an attractive option. We wouldn’t take the chance of stopping there without being checked in but we are considering a more “creative” route.

So, we now have the charts for Cuba and the Cay Sal. This adds a whole new option for this falls cruising season. In the meantime we’ll just have to wait and see what happens on the world stage.

Far Niente is on the hard in a local yard for hurricane season. The boat has been blocked up and tied down to huge cement blocks to keep it from blowing over if a storm strikes the area.
It’s the only yard I’ve ever been in where chaining the stands together wasn’t routine procedure. Most of the boat owners are aware of this shortcoming and lash the stands together themselves. I can’t believe this place operates this way. Heck, they don't even tie your boat down unless you specifically arrange for it.

Oh, and the joke is on me. When I checked the price of the used cruising guide on Amazon they were even more expensive then the brand new ones at Blue Water Books.

April 28, 2009.

Without fail, every time we cross water that is more than a few thousand feet deep we find that we have a problem with our bilge pump. I don’t remember ever connecting the depth sounder to the bilge pump so I can’t figure out how the bilge pump knows when we’re in deep water. Crossing back from the Bahamas this year was no exception.

If you’ve been a faithful reader then you know that we use the egg timer every time we make a night time crossing. We’ve adopted a new tactic during daylight runs offshore. We set the timer to go off at one hour intervals. Every time the timer sounds I go below and check the engine room, the power panel, battery level and the bilge.

During one of the first routine checks I found that the float switch which should start the bilge pump was completely under water in the bilge. That’s why they call it a float switch. The little arm is supposed to float and cause the bilge pump to empty the bilge. But no. I manually ran the bilge pump and all was well but it was just something to keep an eye on. The alarm was then set to go off every 1/2 hour for the next 14 hours. I’m not talking about a lot of water. It’s just that any water being inside the boat is a little creepy.

In the event that the bilge pump ever failed we have back ups in place. I took the shower sump pump, added a tee and routed a separate hose down into the bilge. This way I can flip a valve, then turn on the shower sump and instead of draining the shower it would empty the bilge for us. Of course, during this little exercise I found that the shower sump no longer has the oomph necessary to pull the water 3 feet up from the bilge to prime itself. So now the bilge pump only works manually, the shower sump will only work on the shower and not the bilge, it was beginning to look like a conspiracy.

We also have a huge Whale Gusher type manual pump. The large manual pump will throw about a half gallon of water overboard every time I pull the handle. Fortunately that still worked as intended.

So now that we’re safely in Vero Beach and caught up on our sleep I figured it was time to see what the problem was.

Our bilge is a very deep, very dark, extremely scary place. Our bilge would give Stephen King the night sweats. But a mans got to do what a mans got to do, besides Christy was up at the marina doing our laundry.

I got rid of the extra hose from the shower sump in order to free up some room in the bilge. Then I pulled the float switch up from the nether regions and started to troubleshoot. It turned out to be an intermittent power connection to the float switch. The repair entailed just cutting out the bad connection and redoing it.

So once again when the little arm floats up the switch turns the bilge pump on and the water resumes it desired position on the outside of the hull.

After that I had to replace the vented loop in the generators raw water system. I’ve never heard of a vented loop actually failing before. I was just happy that I was able to figure out that it was indeed bad. That had the potential to be one of those no brainer things that you’d never expect.

Our fresh water pump that pressurizes the drinking water and shower has been getting weaker and weaker. I’ve got another one on board so that’s on the agenda for tomorrow. Hopefully I can just fix the one that’s in there but if not, I’ll just swap it for the new one. We’ll see.

It hasn’t been all chores since we’ve been here. We had a visit from Gary from the Packet Inn and have spent some time with the My Destiny’s at the Far Niente’s for dinner. We’ve also hit one of the Saturday afternoon cruiser’s get together’s up at the marina. We have plans to head down to Bluewater Books in Fort Lauderdale to see about getting some charts of Cuba in the event my bud Obama can pull this all together in time for next years season. :)



One final note. We did come back with as much food in the freezer as when we left. We wore out 2 courtesy flags of our host country and a small American flag as well. And finally, yes, some chocolate did survive the trip.

April 25, 2009.

A lot has happened since I’ve last written or as I like to say, put pecking finger to keyboard. We were comfortably anchored at Manjack Cay enjoying the hunting opportunities offered by the reef when a weather window presented itself. We decided to start the slog back to the states.

Thursday and Friday appeared to be the days to travel so we were up and underway at 0600 on Thursday morning. We had a 75 mile day scheduled to make it to the anchorage behind Mangrove Cay. We had the anchor up and the engine off before sunrise. The wind was from the east at 12 knots or so. We were headed north at about 6 knots under sail alone. As we turned westward we ended up having to go wing and wing to present as much sail as possible to the breeze. The wind slowly petered out and after 7 hours we had to fire up the engine and motor the last 6 hours of the day.

We approached Mangrove Cay just about 1900 hours. As we rounded the cay we found a disturbing sight. A big steel sloop, probably 60 feet in length, was hard aground. Mangrove Cay is in the middle of nowhere and these people were stuck as hell.

Being a good guy, Norm immediately dropped his dink in the water and came over to pick me up. It turned out that these people had been aground for 2 days waiting for a tide that might float them off. They had run aground right at high tide 2 nights ago and found themselves lying on their side every time the tide went out. They had a kedge out and routed to their big cockpit winch (a kedge is an anchor that you take out into deep water in an effort to winch yourself back to a happy place).

The tide was due to be high at 2030 so at 1930 we did everything we could to get them floating again. We had them put up both sails and sheet them in tight as the breeze was just starting to build a bit and was headed towards deeper water. Then we tied a long line to his topping lift in an effort to use the dinghy to heel the boat even more. While this was going on we used another dinghy to try and push the bow around towards the freedom of deeper water. So there was simultaneous pushing, tilting, full sails, winching and engine power all happening to no avail. He was debating emptying his fresh water tank as he had just taken on 400 gallons, but at 50 cents a gallon. His boat weighed in at over 30 tons so what’s another ton more or less.

The woman on board said she thought she might have felt the boat move but wasn’t sure. We did everything we could but we had to throw in the towel as we had to be underway in 5 hours and still had stuff to do to be ready. We advised him to leave his sails up and hopefully the constant pressure from the breeze would do the job and sadly bade them adieu. In a miracle among miracles, as Norm dropped me back at the boat we both turned to watch in astonishment as the huge boat slowly sailed off the reef. It made both our days as we watched them sail off into deeper water and anchor for the night.

Christy and I ate a quick dinner and turned in. We had 20 miles further to travel than the Blown Aways so we had to set out earlier than they did. At 0130 the alarm went off and we less than merrily got underway. It was dark as hell as Christy navigated us through the darkened boats that had filled in the anchorage after we had gone to bed. All went well and after the anchor locker was squared away we turned west.

The first 25 miles was across the Bahama Banks. We had a bit of breeze and we motorsailed west at close to 7 knots. At dawn we were off the banks and into deep water. There was a bit of a roll so the sails were full one moment and then slatting the next. It was about at this moment that the wind went even lighter and we had to drop all sail and rely on the motor alone. The breeze was only a knot or three and coming straight over the stern. It completely sucked. At one point the windex, the wind generator and the anemometer were all facing different directions while the flag hung straight down.

We ended up motoring all the way across the Gulf Stream. We made great time riding the Gulf Streams push. Of course the wind finally started to build when we were about 4 miles from Fort Pierce. We entered the inlet with the flood tide. Once we turned north and went through the lift bridge we again raised sail. We were able to sail the last 10 miles of our trip up the ICW to Vero Beach arriving right at 1900 hours.

Our cell phone had been reactivated so we caught up on some phone calls. We also took advantage of the Locals Boaters Option aka the LBO.

With the LBO cards Customs and Border Patrol has all of your information on file so checking back into the country should be a snap. It was our first time using it so I was a little skeptical. Much to our relief it went off without a hitch and we were checked back into the country with only a phone call. No personal appearance necessary. After that we did a little interneting and then went to sleep for 14 hours.

April 22, 2009.

The front has passed. The wind died during the night and all was calm. Of course, that was until we got in the dinghy to hit the reefs one more time.

The wind was out of the north at 20 knots and due to shift to the northeast. We hustled out to the reef to get in some more hunting before the seas had time to build.

It was kind of a dull day as we spent about 4 hours splashing around. I took another hogfish as soon as I got in the water. I missed one right after that and didn’t really see another fish I considered worthy until it was time to leave. Then I was able to spear a really nice Margate over 30 inches long. I’d tell you how much it weighed but I can’t find my damn fish scale. I dunno, the boats only so big but I can’t seem to find it.

One final picture of our chartplotter installed in the aft stateroom. It was our old chartplotter we kept as a spare. Instead of letting it lie around I put it to good use as a bedside mounted drag alarm. It’s quite handy as it has a battery monitor and an alarm clock feature as well. You can see from our track how we’ve been lying to the wind as it’s clocked around. That tiny line in the middle of the arc is how the boat wandered around when the wind completely died during the night. I love this thing.

We’ve been keeping a running count of our hunting harvest for the 2009 season here in the Bahamas.

Lobster……………22
Triggerfish…………9
Hogfish……………14
Mutton Snapper…...1
Grouper……………17
Schoolmaster………2
Yellow Jack………...1
Coral Crab………….1
Almaco Jack………..1
Margate……………..3
Christy’s mysterious Moo Goo……1 (which we did eat and it was good)

That gives us a grand total of 50 fish and 22 lobsters. Not too shabby considering that we were only here in the Bahamas for 70 days. In addition to those edible species I also killed 18 lionfish because it’s the right thing to do. So we’re pretty much leaving with as much food as we arrived with.

So we’re underway for Mangrove Cay in the morning and should be able to cross back to the states on Friday.

April 21, 2009.

This morning the wind was supposed to clock around through the west. Surprise; we’re sitting here pretty much unprotected from the west. The wind was supposed to be 10 to 15 knots with the possibility of 30 to 40 knot squalls. We could have moved the 3 miles across the Sea of Abaco and had good westerly protection but we didn’t.

We decided to stay put based on 3 things. First was that the event would be during the day, when things go to hell it’s always nice to actually be able to see the gates of hell. Second, if we moved across we’d have protection only from the west, meaning we would have to move back as soon as the front passed. The third thing for us to consider was the fact that it’s been pretty windy the last few days and our hook was well set, it’s completely buried.

The front passed as it was supposed to and we did get hit by a few of the squalls with the highest gust we saw being 32 knots. We had nobody to windward of us so we didn’t have that to worry about. We were fine but 2 of our neighbors did drag a bit. They both did a little fancy footwork and did manage to get their anchors down again safely. As you can see, Molly really didn't enjoy the thunder that accompanied the front.

At 1300 hours the front officially passed and the sun came out. The breeze was back under 10 knots so we decided to hit the water once again. On the ocean side of the cay the water was calm and visibility was decent. After about 20 minutes of seeing nothing noteworthy I came across the biggest lobster I’ve seen this year. I had my spear within inches of his beady little eyes but I couldn’t drop the hammer on him. Lobster season ended on March 31st and I just couldn’t do it. I wanted to, he was freaking huge but I just didn’t want to screw up my karma.

It almost killed me, but after watching him for several minutes I continued my swim with my karma intact. Almost immediately I was rewarded with another nice hogfish. After the hog I swam for another hour before I saw another fish I was interested in. It was another good sized hogfish about 25 feet below me.

Hogfish is my favorite seafood and fortunately they’re not the brightest fish in the sea. They have a chameleon like quality so they prefer to sit still and blend in rather than to try and outrun you. Evidently, this guy hadn’t read the manual. As I dove down upon him he scooted into a small opening in the reef. Crap. While I was down there I peeked inside and came face to face with a good sized grouper. Eureka. My spear was already cocked so I shot as the grouper wheeled and darted back into the opening.

He made it into the opening but not before my spear had ripped through his tail and out through his abdomen. But there was a problem….. Between his dorsal fin, his tail and his tenacity I couldn’t pull him ass first back out of the hole. This is where the whole people need to breathe air thing started to get real important. I had to leave my spear and surface so I could continue to be counted among the living.

After about 10 dives to the bottom I was exhausted and had to concentrate on my breathing as I found myself starting to hyperventilate over this stupid fish. Ommm Ommmm…. No matter what I did I couldn’t get this fish out of the hole. I was exhausted, he had a six foot spear sticking out of his ass and was acting like he was only inconvenienced. In this situation if you give the fish some time they’ll usually die and make the retrieval a whole lot easier. Unfortunately, the wound wasn’t mortal. He still had plenty of fight in him while I was wondering why my corner hadn’t thrown in the towel yet.

Finally, I went down and looked at the back of the rock that he was under and found that there was a slightly larger opening. He was facing this opening and I could see my spear point. I was tempted to unscrew the point and pull the fish off the spear but he was still fresh as a damned daisy and I knew there was no way I could hold onto his slimy ass.

Fortunately Norm was close by and he came to my rescue. He went to the hole at the back of the rock and shot Mr. Grouper in the face. Using his spear he was able to draw the now dead grouper and my spear out the back of the hole. The thing looked like a damn porcupine with 2 six foot spears sticking out of him but as long as he ends up in the bucket, that’s what counts.

So from the time I first shot the grouper it was probably 30 minutes before we started hunting again. As soon as I turned the next corner I watched as a huge tail slipped behind the reef. The blood in the water had drawn a very large Bull Shark. I only saw the last 4 feet of the shark and it was all tail, no dorsal fin or anything forward of that. I told Norm he was there and headed for the dinghy. Norm took a peek over the reef and confirmed it was a 10 foot Bull Shark. He had to tell me twice because the first time he said it, I was already standing in the dink.

We moved the dinghy about a mile down the reef and started again but by this time the sun was getting lower in the sky and visibility was deteriorating.

We’ve decided that we can spend one more day here on the reef before we have to get underway to make the next weather window to cross back to the states. So we’ll see what the tomorrow brings….

April 19, 2009.

On our last evening anchored behind Green Turtle Cay we had an anchor drill of sorts. Chris and Craig on Tilt noticed that the unoccupied boat next to them was drifting away after a brief bit of high wind had come through. They were prepped to leave for the states in the morning and their dinghy was already lashed on deck. So they called Norm on Blown Away and asked if he could take care of the errant boat. I called Norm and asked him to pick me up and we could reset the anchor for these people. Norm put his dink back in the water and zipped over to get me and we hightailed it over to the s/v Sunrise.

I climbed aboard while Norm took his lookie bucket out to check out their anchor. The anchor was just laying on its side on the bottom so I let out more scope until there was 175 feet out. The boat stopped moving and all seemed well. It turned out that the people had been at a waterside restaurant and were on their way back because they saw that their boat was leaving without them. They were very thankful for our help and the event turned into just another interesting way to meet people.

The next morning we sailed the 5 miles north to Manjack Cay. All I can say is “what a place”. The anchorage offers decent protection from the north, east and south. The Blown Aways have good friends that have been living here for over 15 years. Leslie and Bill have created themselves a tropical paradise here on the cay.

They live in a large home surrounded by wide rambling porches. I don’t know what Leslie did before she moved here to the cay but she should have been a botanist. When we met her she was in her gardening clothes and working her way through the yard trimming and managing their astounding foliage. The first impression I had when I stepped off their dock was just how good their property smelled. Tropical plants were flourishing everywhere.

She graciously took the time to show us around their property. They grow their own vegetables and keep bees and chickens as well. The entire household runs off solar panels much like our boat does. They have a huge series of tin roofs that act as a rain collection system that channels water into their cistern. Very cleverly they use an above ground swimming pool assembled under a roof as the cistern itself. Ingenuity just oozes around every corner. They start a lot of their plants in a hydroponics system that’s automated, quite productive and all powered by the sun. They are also allowing us to use their wifi so we can keep in touch.

The cay is crisscrossed with beautiful trails and walkways through dense foliage. They built a boardwalk that crosses a mangrove swamp. The mangroves grow unimpeded as you walk the narrow plank path several feet above the water. It’s just beautiful.

Another great thing about this place is the diving. On the ocean side there is a reef system that goes for miles and miles. The wind is supposed to clock around to the south and then west so the water should be perfect for spearfishing. But who can wait for the weather….

We took the dinghies out a small cut and onto the ocean side. Big seas were breaking on the reef close to a half mile offshore. Inside the outer reef is a maze of coral heads, one after another. The water was pretty stirred up but visibility was still good enough to do some hunting.

Norm took a humongous grouper while I harvested a Margate, an Almaco Jack and another really nice Hogfish. I saw a ton of nice fish and even a grouper that would have probably beaten me to death if I had tried to take him. Norm and I might have to gang up on that bad boy. So this place is a slice of heaven, we’ll be staying for about a week or until the next weather window allows us to cross back to the states.

April 17, 2009.

My first impressions of the Abacos…..the good, the bad and the ridiculous.

During our trip north to Abaco we were in radio range of a boat christened Bananas. The guy was single handing and trying to take his newly purchased boat home from the British Virgin Islands. His last stop was in the Turks and Caicos and after 30 hours or so he was off of the southern tip of Abaco.

He made several calls for information during the day. He needed weather updates as he had been thrashed pretty good by a storm early in this leg of his journey and had gotten pummeled by the storm that delayed everyone’s departure from Royal Island just this morning. He sounded practically delirious from lack of sleep and the beating he had been absorbing.

When we finally left Royal Island he was 7 miles ahead of us and somehow he ended up 13 miles behind us (we never saw him)as we approached Abaco. He had no charts of the area, I’m pretty sure he was misreading his GPS when he was relaying his position and he was surprised twice in the last 30 hours by vicious storm cells.

Some of the other boats were trying to offer him some help. Norm gave him a weather update and one of the other boats tried to talk him into stopping in at Royal Island to get some sleep. He stated that his intention was to keep on going until he got to Miami. Miami is 30 hours away even in good conditions. He was facing a building breeze coming straight out of the west. As the day went on he showed up on the radio every few hours sounding more confused about what to do. He said I’m not declaring an emergency but I’m getting close, the boat is fine but I’m just so exhausted. People tried to get him to alter course and follow us into Abaco but he had no idea where it was and was really unable to grasp simple directions. Columbus had a better idea of what was out there.

Finally the captain of a 102 foot motor yacht asked him to confirm his position and said he would alter course to lend a hand. It turned out he was only 35 minutes away and he changed course to rendezvous with him.

When the captain arrived the guy was practically delirious and saying things like “I’ve got a wife and children” “it’s just been too much” “I was taking the boat to Miami and then on to Texas but I’m gonna leave it in Miami and have it delivered, I just want to see my kids again” etc. True to the tradition of the sea the captain of the power yacht offered to take the guy in tow and drag him all the way to Abaco. The offer was joyfully accepted.

This power boat could probably cruise at 20 knots and yet he dutifully towed Bananas 30 miles at less than 10 knots. We listened as they had to reorganize as the tow rope snapped twice during their trip. The power boat captain chatted with the guy for the entire trip to try and keep him alert. True to his word the captain towed him all the way to Abaco. Then he towed him in through the cut and right into the anchorage. They didn’t drop the hook until 2100 hours. Then the captain sent one of his crew over in the tender to pick the guy up so he could get a good meal aboard the huge motor yacht.

The guy was obviously overwhelmed by the weather and the scope of the trip he was trying to undertake. He was completely unprepared and this power yacht just happened along and made a huge difference. The captain of the La Dolce Vita earned more than a little respect from everyone in radio range that day.

In Abaco they have a morning radio net a la Georgetown complete with weather info, local happenings and such. During the morning net a guy called in and said that a sneak thief had boarded his boat in the middle of the night and stolen several pieces of hand held electronic gear. He felt violated and wanted to know if this was more common than he realized. He asked “Was this a dirty little secret of the Abacos?”

The net controller kind of swept him off to the side and said she’d get back to him at the end of the net. At the end of the net there was a flurry of calls from people that were saying things like “I’ve been coming here for 20 years and I’ve never had a problem”. My thought was “What the hell does that have to do with anything”. This guy was robbed and instead of announcing to everyone within earshot that there had been a robbery, be careful people, watch your stuff. They kinda spun their own little version of damage control. I mean, you could live in New York City for 40 years and never be the victim of crime but if the old lady upstairs gets murdered I think it might be a good idea to tell everyone in the building that it happened. But that's just me.

We stopped for a few days at Green Turtle Cay. The settlement of New Plymouth specifically, and I have to say that it’s utterly charming. Every street is a narrow concrete One Way lane. There are few cars and trucks and the most popular form of transportation is the golf cart.




The buildings are mostly in a good state of repair and brightly painted. There seems to be a good bit of community pride and the town’s appearance reflects that pride. Clean streets, friendly people are the norm. There are a few small grocery stores and places to eat.

As with much of the Bahamas the main influx of settlers came here at the end of the American Revolution. The Bahamas had been already settled by the English in the 1640’s. So it was a natural choice for loyalists that were fleeing persecution after the colonial rabble in America won their freedom from England. The buildings architecture and age along with the English manner of speech remind me of what an old English seaside town must have been like. It really is a great place to visit.

April 16, 2009.

After our late arrival and subsequent work to put the boat back in order we slept like babies. We had planned to spend a few days here before working our way up to Baker’s Bay. Baker’s Bay is a popular anchorage for boaters waiting to make the trip north through The Whale.

The Whale is a section of water that has a well deserved, very sinister reputation. When approaching the Whale from the south you have to transit a winding narrow section of water. This course leads you out into the Atlantic Ocean for a mile or so before bringing you right back into the sea of Abaco through the next cut. The water just offshore is thousands of feet deep and comes up to 25 feet in a very short distance. The result is large rollers that have a tendency to break violently even during fairly benign weather.

Quoting the Abaco, Ports of Call and Anchorages book. “Large ocean going freighters have been known to capsize with loss of lives attempting this passage”. Only a fool or the uninformed would take The Whale lightly. It’s not unusual to have dozens of boats at either end of The Whale waiting for a weather window to make this deceptively easy looking 5 mile passage. So it’s with this in mind we decided to accelerate our trip north.

There’s a huge low pressure system that will pass well north of our position. The winds will be in the 50 knot range. While the wind won’t really affect us it will drive a 10 to 15 foot swell down to The Whale. The Whale is predicted to get very lumpy on Friday and impassible for at least Saturday and Sunday.

So if we get right back on the horse we can knock out a 40 mile day and be past The Whale before the conditions deteriorate. After listening to the weather we were considering that very thing when Norm called and proposed the same plan.

We ended up hauling the hook at 1000 and started heading north. The wind was from the north northeast at 10 to 15 knots as we motorsailed north. At around noon we were able to turn just west enough that we could kill the engine and take advantage of the breeze.

It was another really great day of sailing. We averaged 7 knots for the rest of the day as the 2 of us sped northward. The Sea of Abaco is fairly shallow so you have to pay attention to the chart and follow a proven route as you travel. We were broad reaching, close reaching and close hauled several times during the day. We blew right by Baker’s Bay and with a favorable breeze there was no reason to consider stopping. It was tons of fun and before we knew it we were into The Whales approach.

The water in the Sea of Abaco was smooth as silk and the breeze was pleasant. When we got into The Whale proper I was surprised just how rough it was. Rough isn’t really the right word as it was only a bit lumpy but I could see how it could become dangerous even in decent conditions.

So needless to say, I’m glad The Whale is behind us and we’re anchored at Green Turtle Cay.

April 15, 2009.

We had planned to leave at first light so I was up at 0530. Unfortunately, there was the deep rumble of thunder off to our west. Since the first leg of our journey was to be to the west I didn’t want to take the chance of sailing into a storm cell that wasn’t yet visible in the early morning grayness. Plus, Christy said to set the alarm for 30 minutes later.

Chris Parkers weather report showed favorable conditions for traveling north, but there was going to be scattered, possibly violent squall activity. The consensus among the boats in the anchorage was that pulling the hooks at 0700 and heading out was the thing to do.

At ten to seven I turned the key and the engine no starty. F*#k. I went below and arked the starter and the engine cranked right over but refused to catch. Usually, if the engine turns over and refuses to start it’s either a fuel problem or a fuel problem. But there was more to be considered…….

Last night when checking all the fluid levels and the engine room in general I found the alternator belt had started to delaminate. So I removed the water pump belt to access and replace the alternator belt. The new alternator belt was a much tighter fit than the old one but I was able to just barely make it fit.

So, naturally since I had been messing with the alternator only the night before I figured I must have broken or unplugged a wire somehow. There are three poles on the top of the alternator case and all three still had their wires attached. Then I traced all the wires and found nothing broken. I did however find that the engine mounted ignition breaker had tripped. I reset it and went above and turned the key to the run position and heard the tiny *click* of the breaker once again popping. Crap. There must be a short somewhere.

Every time I turned the key the breaker instantly popped. So I removed the ignition panel from the bulkhead to begin troubleshooting. In the meantime, Christy radioed some of the other boats that we weren’t able to get underway. Now I was feeling incredible pressure, I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help it. I know that people want to help but I just can’t stand being responsible for someone missing their opportunity to move on. If they didn’t leave today they’d probably be stuck here for a few days before another weather window opened for them. The jump across to Abaco from the north end of Eleuthera can be pretty nasty so decent weather is very important. I was sure I could figure out the problem if I could just sit and think it through, instead of trying to frantically find the problem so I didn’t hold everybody up.

The Blown Aways were adamant about not leaving us. They have to be back in the states in two weeks and if they get stuck here for a few days their trip to the Abacos would become a mad dash and kind of pointless. They might as well leave straight from here and head back to the states. How could I be responsible for that? No matter what I said “that we’re in a well protected secure anchorage, that there’s the well stocked town of Spanish Wells only a half hour dinghy ride away” his reply was that we just can’t leave you. I was pretty sure I could get everything squared away if I could just slow down and spend some time with Nigel Caulder’s excellent book on electrical and mechanical boat systems.

0900 was pretty much the cutoff time for getting underway and still being able to make the next anchorage in Abaco before dusk. Finally succumbing to my pressure our friends on Fine Lion, Sapphire and even Blown Away headed out. I appreciated that they were willing to delay or even forego their trip to help us. If I thought that I was in over my head I would have been glad to get the help. I just felt in this instance it wasn’t justified and just being responsible for them possibly staying here was crushing me.

During all of this I had removed the ignition panel. I individually checked the ignition switch itself, then the starter button and the pre heat button. All were fine. I kept coming back to the feeling that this wasn’t coincidence; I must have screwed something up the night before. Every time I checked something and it wasn’t the problem I found myself back at the alternator fondling and retracing those 3 wires to no avail.

Then I ran through the troubleshooting procedures for the starter solenoid and then the preheat solenoid in an effort to find what was tripping that breaker. No love. I was sitting on the settee with the electrical schematic for the ignition system and checking things one at a time.

I still felt it had to be something I had done so I was reading the section of Nigel’s book dealing with the alternator. As it happened the alternator he uses in some of the pictures is our exact alternator. I could see the 4 wires clear as a bell. 4 WIRES? There were 3 poles across the top of the unit and another pole on the bottom corner.

I got my mirror and checked and sure enough there was the problem, the fourth pole. The wire was still firmly attached but the tightness of the new belt had pulled the alternator over just enough that the pole was barely pressed up against the engine block causing a short.

I loosened the alternator and pried it away, retightened it, reset the breaker and at 1015 the boat fired right up. The pole was very close to the engine block at only a sixteenth of an inch away but that’s the best I could do without over tightening the belt. I figured after the belt runs a bit it will stretch allowing me to adjust it to a more proper clearance.

We called Blown Away and told them we were an hour behind them and underway. Because of our heading and the wind direction I wasn’t sure that we would be using the mainsail today. With the wind dead on the stern it often blankets the more powerful genoa and there was no way I was doing 55 miles wing and wing in rolly conditions. So for the first time in as long as I can remember we left an anchorage with no mainsail up.

We left the anchorage’s narrow entrance and pounded south for a couple of hundred yards dead into a nasty 5 foot chop and 20 knots of wind. Then we had to turn west for 2 miles before starting our run north. During this 2 mile stretch to the west things took a turn for the worse. The engine died. Oh Shit.

We were in 15 feet of water about 300 yards off a lee shore composed entirely of stone. Christy immediately turned into the wind while I began to raise the mainsail. Without enough speed to maintain steerage I couldn’t keep the sail from getting tangled in the lazy jacks. The boat was pretty much at a standstill and before it could fall off, I dumped the anchor and ninety feet of chain into the water.

The hook immediately set and saved the day. While Christy monitored our position I went below to find that the alternator had eased its way back so that the fourth pole was once again causing a short. The good news was that the belt had already stretched a bit and I was able to adjust it to keep the alternator a quarter of an inch away from the engine block. I reset the breaker and Veranda once again started right up. I hauled the hook and having had enough excitement for one day I finished raising the mainsail just in case.

We had to make tracks so we had to motorsail north often hitting 8 knots as we hurried in an effort to arrive before dark. The excitement still wasn’t over for the day…..

The waterspouts we had seen the other day were just average, run of the mill water borne tornados. Today we saw the mother of all waterspouts.

It was massive. The spout slowly made its way down from the clouds until it reached the waters surface. The thing that made this spout so special is that it had to be close to a half mile wide and kept its form for at least a half an hour. It finally did fade away and we spent a bit of time dodging storm cells just in case another one decided to form.

The entrance to Little Harbor in Abaco can be scary as hell. The opening is very wide with only a deep center section. It’s pretty scary watching the waves break over the reef on either side of you as you transit the unmarked deeper center section. Fortunately we had a perfect day for our first time entering this cut and surfed in on large slow rollers. We made it by the skin of our teeth as we entered the cut at 1900 hours just 30 minutes before sunset. It was calm enough that I would have been able to do it in the dark but after the way the day started, I was glad I didn’t have to.

We dropped the hook 20 minutes later and went about putting the boat back together. All my tools, books and schematics were still where I had left them when we fired up the boat. I even had to reassemble and reinstall the ignition panel as there just wasn’t time in the morning.

So…..we’re in the Abacos.