Schedules, plans, and reality

 

I don't wanna go home yet!

 

Just as one should never work a New York Times crossword puzzle in ink (although we do. That Hans is a wild and crazy guy), one should never expect plans and schedules to go off without a hitch while cruising. We just call it 'writing our plans in the sand'.

When we set out on this journey it was with the intention of working our way down to Georgetown, staying there for a couple of weeks or more, and then on our way back up the Exumas chain we would visit the cays that we previously missed.

Thanks to the worst weather the Bahamas has experienced in the last 30 years and the fact that our wind generator blew out in a huge storm, we never did reach Georgetown. It was in Staniel Cay, on Cinco de Mayo Wednesday, that Windy screamed her final breath. We arrived in Blackpoint on Thursday, and were so excited to be there and take advantage off all the good things Blackpoint has to offer that it wasn't until Saturday that we realized we hadn't called the wind generator company for a replacement. Hans dinghied ashore bright and early (something like noon) on Monday, skyped the company and just like that a new generator was on its way to us at no charge since it was still under warranty.

The replacement would be sent to Ft. Lauderdale and then flown via Watermaker's straight to Blackpoint. Normally, Watermaker's flies into Staniel but their air strip was being repaired so this was perfect for us. It would take about a week to get there and Hans decided we'd go ahead and jump down to Georgetown and pick it up on our way back. We waved goodbye to our friends, weighed anchor, and set out into choppy seas.

An hour later we waved hello to these same, but very puzzled friends when we re-anchored in nearly the same spot we'd been in that morning. The seas had been choppy and we would've had to motor the whole way to the next stop which was Farmer's Cay but we decided we didn't have to go and we really did like Blackpoint anyway so why not just wait there for the generator to be delivered. (A week later the generator arrived as promised but since we weren't personally at the air strip to receive it, it was sent by boat to Staniel!). During our remaining time in Blackpoint we discovered that Wilbur Beach, at low tide, was an absolute Sand Dollar Extravaganza. Finding a whole sand dollar and not just a piece of one, to me, is like winning the lottery. Wilbur and I both spotted the first one at the same time and we actually fought over it. "It's mine!" I shouted as I rudely shoved him aside. "It's mine! It's mine!" Wilbur snorted as he frantically dug his big pit bull nails into the sand. I won and immediately hid my prize behind my back. Wilbur loves anything that reeks of fish. Hans found the second one, and I was hooked. We spent our last two days on the beach at low tide and found a total of 15 sand dollars and a star fish. I gave a few of them away to our cruising friends before we departed to head back to Staniel and hopefully find our wind generator waiting for us.

 

 

Blackpoint became the final stopping point before parting ways for all of us who'd traveled together from Florida. Most of us were turning back but one couple continued on as they have a three year plan to sail the Caribbean.

We could have squeezed Georgetown in if we'd really wanted to. Originally, we'd intended to spend up to a month there but as it was we would have only had a few days. If I'd really liked it I would have hated to leave it so soon.

I do believe I said I'll never sail back to the Bahamas again but if we do then we'll have to leave earlier in the year and I'll have Georgetown to look forward to.

Wilbur, our VPR guide

(Visual Pilot Rules)

 

 

 

 

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Making Friends and Helping Others

 

Blackpoint Settlement as seen from the Laundromat

 

Something we often hear about in our travels is how friendly and helpful the sailing community is. And it's true.

Back when we were in Warderick Wells, a couple we met in Marathon and crossed with over to the Bahamas, experienced a problem that left them without an engine. They really wanted to get south to Blackpoint Settlement (where there were more services available) which wasn't all that far away but, in order to get there they would need to be towed off their mooring and out of the Exuma Park. So, Hans and three other captains volunteered for duty and the next morning during an outgoing tide, Operation Dinghy Tow was a success. The biggest thing I regret about this trip (and I will kick myself forever) is that I chose the most inopportune moment to go below and wash my face. I came above deck with my iPhone in hand all ready to video this particular adventure and realized with dismay that they'd already passed (within feet) of the Knotty Cat and were way out to the red and green channel markers and also out of camera range. A total of four dinghies, two on each side, had lashed onto the engine-less boat and after a breath taking moment when one of the mooring lines got stuck, they were on their way. Once past the markers I could see the dinghies falling off as the crippled boat unfurled its jib and was on its way.

Maybe it's a good thing I didn't see what was taking place because Hans arrived back to our boat with the dinghy ankle deep with water. Being lashed to the big boat meant that the waves of water that slapped up between it and our dinghy ended up in, well... our dinghy.

Our friends sailed into and achored at Blackpoint and later in the week during the big blow, where we saw 46 knot winds in Staniel Cay; they saw 70 knots of sustained winds. While stuck in Blackpoint, the captain, with a portable generator donated by another one of our 'crossing friends' worked on his engine issue while his wife volunteered at the local school. In Blackpoint (the Staniel Cay landing strip is closed) he had parts flown in, we had a new wind generator flown in (a drama unto itself and a future post), and we just heard another one of our friends needs to get a new raw water pump flown in.

Also, back when we were in Warderick Wells, a call went out on the VHF for anyone with veterinarian experience and we all tuned in. A yorkie (the most fearsome creature Wilbur has ever encountered) had exhibited some unusual tummy troubles to the point of throwing up bile. The VHF crackled with excitement as we all jumped in. A fellow cruiser (who had just had his wife flown back to the states due to a severe kidney infection and was awaiting a weather-window to sail his boat back to the states to join her) zipped about the mooring field collecting donations, with ours being canned pumpkin. But alas, the little shit yorkie turned up its nose to everything donated (except for some coconut yogurt) and while it ate some boiled chicken, it spit out the rice that had been cooked with it.

When we later departed the mooring field and passed the boat with the yorkie in distress, I was not surprised for one moment when the little stinker (looking suspiciously healthy) erupted from below deck, ran to the bow, and nearly turned inside out barking at Wilbur. I've no doubt it then went into acute distress and another emergency run of the mooring field in search of more tasty treats ensued.

We were in Warderick Wells for barely a week but it surely seems like most of the help meted out during this trip occurred there. And Wilbur, too, did his best to be a good canine citizen.

The day we entered Warderick I was amazed when we slid past a boat that had a dog that was approximately the same size as Wilbur. I was even more amazed when I realized it looked like a pit bull. This dog was playing a polite game of fetch off a dinghy lashed behind its boat and Wilbur was quite vocal upon witnessing this wonderful event.

Ryder, with what is now Wilbur's toy.

At the shelter, Ryder's breed was vaguely referred to as a lab/boxer mix but his family, as well as anyone with two bad eyes, can see that Ryder is definitely a pit bull (heavy on the pit) mix. After a couple of days we finally arranged for Wilbur and Ryder to meet at the beach. I'd warned Ryder's people that Wilbur is maybe just a little greedy when it comes to toys. No problem they assured me, Ryder is a generous soul. Hans and I let Wilbur tow us ashore in our dinghy where he skidded to a stop beside an astonished Ryder, stood stock still while Ryder sniffed his nether regions, and then leaped like a mountain goat up onto some very unforgiving coral. Dare I mention Wilbur did all of this in his pink polka dot life jacket? As per Wilbur's usual behavior, he insisted on first marking his territory before socializing and then promptly set forth to terrorize Ryder and his people. Ryder had brought a tantalizingly bright red, squeaky football to this play date and was happily chomping it in his jaws when Wilbur, sensing trouble, came to the rescue, snatched the football away, and immediately performed an emergency sqeakerectomy right there on the beach. In a further effort to be a hero, Wilbur clung to the now silent but possibly still dangerous football and ran away every time Ryder approached to ask if he couldn't please have his toy back.

Long story short, Wilbur now has a non-squeaking red football on board, and surprisingly Ryder's people are still in touch with us.

Wilbur tries to keep the squeaker-less football from hurting us.

In a spirit of continued generosity, Wilbur donated his very well used potty patch to Ryder who apparently has potty issues and prefers to 'go' ashore. We've been informed that so far even though the patch stinks of Wilbur, Ryder has shown no desire to mark it for himself.

 

Friends.

 

 

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Blackpoint Settlement, Bahamas. My new hometown.

 

If I couldn't claim Mayberry, North Carolina, as my home town, then Blackpoint Settlement in the Exumas would be my next choice, and the parallels are numerous.

Right at the end of the dock is this sign.

 

Mayberry always boasted of being a 'friendly town', and Blackpoint is certainly that. We were stuck in Staniel Cay for a few days due to weather (gee, what's new?) and we'd heard that Blackpoint (a mere 10 miles south) was a cruiser's dream. Why this was, we didn't know, but since that was our next scheduled stop we decided to see for ourselves what everyone was talking about.

It's hard to describe how clear the water is

When we sailed into and anchored in the crystal clear swimming pool of Blackpoint Settlement we were both surprised. The water was so clear we felt like we were suspended in mid-air. As soon as we could, we lowered the dinghy motor onto the dinghy and went ashore. Almost all of the cruisers we'd leap frogged with along this journey south were here and it was like a family reunion. Here in Blackpoint you can dispose of your garbage right behind the government dinghy dock (there's a box for you to leave a donation) R/O water? You can fill your jugs just up the street. Wi-Fi? Free at all the local eateries. There's also free Wi-Fi at Rockside Laundromat and I don't think there's a laundromat in the world that can compete with the view from this one. We weren't in Blackpoint but a few minutes than we'd already signed up for an evening buffet at Lorraine's with a bunch of other cruisers. If you give Lorraine enough notice and can promise at least a 10 person attendance (I believe we ended up with over 20 people) for $20.00 each she'll put on a buffet. Since it appears some of us will be parting ways soon, we're planning a farewell buffet in a day or so.

Lorraines Café

Filling our jugs with R/O water

Lorraine's is one of the local hangouts for cruisers and citizens alike. It's also where you can leave a donation for all the free services that are offered here and you just can't beat that. And like Mayberry it's very relaxed. You won't find anyone playing checkers in front of the courthouse but you will find everyone using their iPhones at Lorraine's or Scorpio's. The first afternoon we walked in with all our electronic stuff in order to reconnect with the real world (which appears to be in a very sorry state) and sat down at a table. Our cruising friends were already there and gave us the lowdown. If no one's around, go get your own drink (beer, soda, or water) out of the cooler from behind the counter and keep track for when it's time to settle up. If you want something to eat let one of Lorraine's daughters or nieces know and they'll take your order. If internet's the only thing you want, fine, help yourself. Considering the whole way down the Exumas where even if we can find it, and have paid $15.00 per day per device for pretty bad internet, this is a dream.

Lorraine's motto is, "I want everyone to feel at home here." And we do.

Lorraine's Mother (she has a name but told us everyone simply calls her Lorraine's Mother) preaches at the church on Sunday and bakes bread in her home everyday. Place your order the day before and and while you wait in her kitchen the next morning she'll wrap it up for you. I've found Bahamian bread to be sweeter than I like (how picky can I get?) but she'll also make French bread if you ask and that's what we used for our cheese sandwiches at lunch, with our left over pressure cooker lasagna at dinner, and for French Toast the next day.

One of our friends is a teacher and she ended up volunteering at the school here for two weeks. The other day they were holding a lunch time hot dog and hamburger fundraiser so the kids can go to Disney World this summer. We got there too late but one of the ladies said, "No problem," and tossed a couple of hot dogs in some hot water for about ten seconds, stuck them in a bun, and then to Hans' horror started slapping every condiment under the sun on them. If you think I'm picky about bread, Hans is even pickier about his hot dogs. Luckily, I like a loaded dog and Hans was able to stop her in time and enjoyed his plain. The kids had been amazed when our friend told them she lived on a boat so after I finished my lunch she invited me to talk to them about how we also live on a boat. This was a small group of first and second graders but what really amazed them was the fact we have a dog on board. One little guy piped up with, "I hate dogs!" which earned him a stern look from Teacher. We've found for the most part that people here fear dogs (of any size) and when I showed the kids a picture of Wilbur on my iPad, another little boy suspiciously asked, "Is that a pit bowl?" (that's how he pronounced it). But when I showed them a video of Wilbur towing us ashore in our dinghy and then a picture of him wearing a baby bonnet, they couldn't get enough. I found myself cornered by a group of energetic kids and everytime the video ended a little finger would dart out and jab the start button again. Wilbur has never swam to shore so many times in his life.

I think I can I think I can

Wilbur, the little pit bull that could

The school

I'm very grateful for the beach that's just a short dinghy ride away, and so as not to torment the citizenry of Blackpoint with our pit bull, we take Wilbur there in hopes of emptying and wearing him out. This way we can then go to town by ourselves without Junior, and be assured of returning to a boat that hasn't been used as an indoor potty patch. Depending on low or high tide it can be an interesting jaunt. At high tide we can dinghy ashore with Wilbur happily towing us the last hundred yards. At low tide we have to anchor way out and walk 'the flats' those last hundred yards and of course Wilbur rejoices in rolling in the heavy cement-like sand that remains. We much prefer high tide, especially in the evening, when we can enjoy happy hour with our friends on Wilbur's Beach (its new official name).

I really hate to leave this place, even after being boarded by the Bahamian Defence Force (their spelling) yesterday during breakfast while I was still in my pajamas. They were just as friendly as Andy and Barney (although I'm pretty sure they have more than one bullet in their guns) and were just doing their job. Wilbur was anxious to dispense some smelly pitty kisses but one of the officers was afraid allergic to dogs and we had to shut Wilbur down below. The other officer, a fellow pit bull owner, was elected to do the below deck inspection and Wilbur finally got some well deserved behind the ear scratches.

Barney and Andy

 

The police station

 

 

Leaving here is gonna be tough.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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