The one(s) that got away.

We finally started to back track through the Abaco's in order to head home and decided to make West End the beginning point to the U.S., instead of Bimini.

We took advantage of the east winds and made pretty good time. On the last leg of this journey we decided to bypass Mangrove Cay on our way from Great Sail to West End which made for a very long day. Mangrove is a good anchorage but not in strong east winds.

Since we were able to sail and didn't have to motor, I decided to toss two fishing lines out and then waited to see what was going to show up for dinner.

Nothing happened for such a long time, I lost interest and quit watching. Hans had gone down below and I was sitting at the helm when I realized our music speakers were making an odd squeaking noise. I monkeyed around with the volume, got on my hands and knees and inspected the speakers, and then suddenly it stopped. It was when I was sitting back down in the captain's seat that I realized one of my fishing lines was gone. Not snapped off, but completely gone. Just then Hans came back up and I showed him the line that I'd figure eighted and secured with half hitches had disappeared. That's what I think the squeaking noise was. It was the line being stretched by a big fish and finally working its way loose from the cleat.

Hans was of the mind that I didn't tie my line correctly.

I tossed a replacement line out and within about a half hour I had a fish. I jumped up and down with excitement, waved my filet knife about, and wondered what side dish I was going to serve with my catch. I put on my gloves and started winding the line around a winch. This fish was a fighter and I kept hoping it wouldn't get away and then finally, we hauled our hefty three foot prize up into the cockpit.

Me (pissed off): Damn it, it's a barracuda, there goes dinner!

Hans (thoughtfully): Maybe not. Maybe it's another holy mackerel.

Me (incredulous): My God, don't you see his teeth?!

Hans (still thoughtful): All fish have teeth (this trip to the Bahamas was the first time in Hans' life he's ever gone fishing).

Me (in resignation): Well this guy has some pretty nasty teeth and if he wants to meet the ladies it wouldn't exactly hurt him to visit an orthodontist.

So we threw him back and of course I didn't get a picture because camera number two isn't working.

A little while later I realized I hadn't seen the huge spoon lure I'd tied onto the other side of the boat, dancing along the surface, and when I grabbed hold of it I knew my lure was gone. I reeled it in and saw that the knot I'd secured the lure with had come undone. I showed it to Hans and insisted that the weight of a fish had caused this.

Hans was of the mind that I didn't tie my knot correctly.





I lieu of a photo, I copied this from the Internet. An obvious relative of our fish.

We ended up with hot dogs and macaroni and cheese for dinner.







For my next project, I believe I'll practice tying a noose, and we'll see whether I tie it correctly or not.

More fish and a life saved from sin!

After having caught one fish on our own and then getting huge hunks of Mahi from The Dog (we just love The Dog and hope we run into him again! What a character!), Hans and I just couldn't get enough. And after Dog informed us that we'd never catch anything on our own on the banks of the Bahamas, I truly feared Hans was going to put me to work and make me walk the docks, and I'm just too old for that. So I'm very happy to relate that after leaving Grand Cay we managed to snag yet one more Holy Mackerel, and we had only traveled two miles.

Wow!

Our second fish, and check out the gloves!! Probably not necessary for such a small fish but I hate getting stuck by fish fins!

We then anchored at Double Breasted Cay but I hate to admit that we never left the boat. The promised sandy beaches were way over on the other side of the rocks that we ended up in, and since getting our dinghy and motor going is such an ordeal we decided to stay put (I'm very serious when I say that dinghy davits had better be in our future).

At Double Breasted and believe it or not this is maybe the second time I've relaxed in the sun.

From Double Breasted we set out for Yankee Carter Cay and I will ask all of you now to please never try to anchor there! Our Dodge Guide to the Abacos states that the entrance to this anchorage carries a depth of 4 feet at MLW (Mean Low Water, an oxymoron if I ever heard one!) and let me tell you that it certainly does not! More like two and a half feet because that's what we draw, and I watched in horror as we left twin trails of sand behind us as we fought our way in. We had to shut down our port engine when we realized no fresh water was shooting out behind us, and we were then stunned to find ourselves in what I can only describe as a Shanty Town on the Water. Tons of working boats, non working boats, and a sunken hulk littered the anchorage and we ended up tossing out the hook in 14 feet of water and far too close to the current, and prayed that we wouldn't drift into anyone during the night. Hans cleaned out the strainer on the port engine, got it back into working order, and we ended up enduring heavy winds and currents throughout the night. While we thankfully didn't drag due to the current, we found that we'd swung uncomfortably close to a working boat the next morning. We felt tremendous relief that the Bahamians, who were on that boat, merely waved a happy good morning to us and didn't hesitate to take off in a another boat thus leaving their mothership in mortal danger of being smacked by the Knotty Cat.

This boat is a lot closer than it appears. I could have just about jumped onto it.

I heard a number of conversations on the radio from people who had anchored the night before and realized that we actually had a better time of it. One couple slept in their cockpit because they were afraid someone would drift into them. Another man got so sick of getting beat up that he weighed anchor at midnight and set sail. Stupid old me slept through the night and I figured that every time the boat shuddered with the slamming waves, meant we were still anchored.

We left at high tide, and getting the anchor up turned into a nightmare that we hadn't even considered and I can't believe we didn't ram into anyone. Hans admits that, so far, this has been the most nerve wracking anchoring we've ever made. We didn't draw a breath of relief until we were way out of that harbor and we will never EVER go back there.

I should have known something would go wrong (my good luck streaks don't last very long) since on our way to (Damn) Yankee Carter, we caught a huge Gray Snapper. Honest to God! Because my trolling line had veered straight down and out of sight I said to Hans, "What the hell is wrong with my line? I think we've snagged bottom!!" But after a bit of tugging, I felt some resistance, and I knew that I hadn't snagged a rock and that I had something more than a Holy Mackerel on the hook! After winding the line around our winch a few times, a form started to take shape and I was actually shaking as I had no idea what it could be. Finally a fat pancake shape with a big eye appeared and we were able to pull it into the cockpit. A quick look at one of our charts proved it to be a Gray Snapper at 30 inches long, and since it felt like it weighed more than a gallon of milk, I'd put it at around eight pounds. Hans would love to think it was more like fifteen but I don't think so.

Mr. Snapper didn't like the rum we gave him and he hung onto dear life for far too long. Here he's still sporting our lure.

We don't happen to have any 'Snapper Helper' on board but he was still delicious!

If you look closely you can see Wilbur giving Mr. Snapper (who's reclining in the captains locker sans beer) the 'fish eye'!

We moved onto Foxtown with nary a bite but that's okay (I have two days worth of fish in our freezer), we had hot dogs and macaroni and cheese for dinner and we endured yet one more night of winds and current. I sincerely hope the day will soon arrive when receiving weather reports won't require thousands of dollars worth of equipment. As of this time most of our information is days old and even a few hours can make a difference.

Upon leaving Foxtown, since the winds were S SW at around 15-20 knots (instead of our old forecast of NE) we took advantage and sailed toward Green Turtle Cay. What a difference it makes to sail along with following seas! We felt sorry for people heading in the opposite direction as they hobby horsed up and down into the wind and waves.

We entered Green Turtle at around 6 PM on Friday night, once again at MLW, and saw depths of four and a half feet in the channel. I'll be glad when we can finally start coming and going with some higher tides.

Another pretty sunset in the Bahamas.

BTW, internet access here is very poor at this time so I will post when I can.

There's more than one way to catch a fish

Before the winds came through Grand Cay yesterday, two other couples invited us for a drink at a raised pavilion at the end of our dock (and it's always BYOB). Even though the ladies stated that they do not like dogs I took Wilbur anyway and kept him far away from them. He was a very good boy and his feelings were a little hurt when no one told him how cute he was.

"Mama, why don't they like the pitty?" Wilbur wants to know.

This is where we sat and from here you get a bird's eye view of the harbor entrance.

While the sky continued to darken ominously and the winds began to pick up, one of the men said, "Here come the rays." I looked out over the water and immediately felt like I'd been jerked back in time to the Wild West.

Huge (at least 8 feet I'm sure) Manta (or Manta like) Rays could be seen gliding through the water of the harbor as they slowly headed toward the marina. It was like watching desperado's stroll into town complete with guns on their hips, spurs on their heels, and evil on their minds.

I didn't have my camera and probably wouldn't have gotten a decent shot anyway.

Those patches of white are sand, and at low tide stick way out of the water. They are very close to the marina and even though we only draw two and a half to three feet we were sure we were going to run aground.

The winds were still hitting hard this morning and even though we could have gone out I talked Hans into staying another day. But it paid off in the end because I'm grilling dolphin (mahi) tonight.

So how did that happen?

I call it a different kind of trolling (trawling?) and I didn't even need a lure. All I did was visit with the men in the boat next to us, and before I knew it I had a zip lock bag full of fish (Hans says he's glad now that he stayed below and out of the way). It reminded me of how years ago my friend, Michelle, and I would go out to a local bar for the evening and come home with our purses full of drink chips thanks to all the visiting out of town business men who were out for dinner. Oh, the good old days, and who'd have ever thought getting a bag of smelly fish would make me as happy as a free drink?!

Now all I have to do is find a beer boat full of slightly blind men and we'll all be happy!

Holy Mackerel!!!!

Or Holy King Fish, but whatever the hell it's called, we caught it!!
Yes, much to my surprise, Hans and I snagged a fish!

Hans and our two foot catch.

After spending two nights at the Blue Water Marina in Bimini we finally decided to move on. The family we met the night before told us they were going to go to the Berry Islands and that we were welcome to follow along. However since the winds were completely wrong for a sail it would mean motoring the whole way and Hans said he was tired of imitating a trawler. They were really nice and I was sorry to pass up their offer.

So we decided that we'd mosey around for a couple of days and then sail to West End so we could get moving into the Abacos where all the snorkeling etc... is supposed to be. On our first venture out of the Bimini Harbor I was amazed at how different things look when you're not in a hellish storm or fighting six foot seas. The water was calm and the colors stunning. Looking out over the ocean was like viewing a layered jello salad; aqua on the bottom, sky blue in the middle, and the deep inky blue of the gulf stream lying top.

My camera just doesn't do this place justice.

We anchored in thirteen feet of water off of South Cat Cay and when Hans dove in to see how the anchor looked he found it just lying on top of some very hard sand. He went down a couple of times to see if he could dig it in but it went nowhere. So we spent the night with the combined weight of the chain and anchor holding us in place.

The next morning we back tracked and anchored in Honeymoon Harbor. There were two big power cruisers rafted together (on one anchor) with tons of people and they spent the day dinghying back and forth to the island. We were fine with just sitting on the boat and once again Hans dove down to check on the anchor. This time we were in six feet of water and the anchor was wedged into a grassy area. The only concern was the huge amount of tiny jellyfish that bounced off of Hans while he was in the water. He didn't get stung so we're not sure what that was all about.

While still waiting for favorable winds we decided to go on back into the Bimini Harbor and anchor on up past the marina. It was when we were headed back that we snagged our fish. We were in about nine feet of water and let out around forty feet of one hundred pound test line with a small spoon lure attached and it wasn't long before Hans was yelling that we had a fish.

Honestly, we were so excited we didn't know what to do. So we started wrapping the line around our winch and when our fish was fully in sight I was pretty sure we had a Barracuda which I didn't want at all as you can't eat them. Then we decided it was a very small Wahoo. When we finally got it up and it was lying across the back of our dinghy, I gave it a welcome aboard shot of vodka and it promptly stopped moving.

After shutting Wilbur up down below we got out our fish guides and of course could not identify our catch. However our book on the Abacos had a very good likeness of our guy and it was either a mackerel or king fish. First we put him in a cooler with ice, then I thought it over and decided we'd better clean it now and get the fillets into the fridge. I got to use the handy dandy fillet knife that my mother gave me for Christmas and I proceeded to cut up our catch while trying not to look into its dead yet very accusing eye!

So for dinner last night we feasted on tons of grilled mackerel coated in Northwest seasoning from Penzey Spices. I then spent the remainder of the evening worrying that we were going to die of poisoning!

We didn't and I'm still doing a little happy dance!

All ready for the grill.

A huge dinner complete with rice.

And remember when I said we were waiting for the right winds so we could sail away? We are now on our way to West End and we are going to have to motor the whole way because the winds we had been promised earlier are now not going to show up.

I'm so surprised.