Blog 032 – Beach Bonfire, New Friends and A Sailboat Race

On VHF channel 68 at 8:15 am every morning is the Cruisers Net in Marsh Harbor, The Abacos, Bahamas. Remember Robin Williams and his famous line, “Good Morning Vietnam?” Well, the Cruisers Net starts in a similar fashion except it’s “Good Morning Bahamas.” It’s run by retired cruisers who wanted to stay connected to all of their cruising friends. Because they are on land with internet they go to Barometer Bob and give the local weather report for the islands in The Abacos and then they go over the conditions of the “cuts” known and feared by cruising sailors. Some have ominous names like, The Whale (as in “Mobie Dick) or Man-O-War. So we all intently listen to the reports hoping not to hear any descriptions of “trauma-1 conditions” or it’s a “rage” with breaking, rolling waves at 10-12 feet. We have heard these terms for the last three weeks! The cuts are the only way to sail out of the banks. They are the openings into the Atlantic. When the swell is up and the wind drives the seas into the cuts it creates a surf zone that rivals stuff only seen on the surfing channel. But not always, some days when the swell is small and from a favorable direction it’s only a couple of rolling waves and then you are back out into open ocean. So these reports from people who can see the cuts are a key part of the Net.

The Net also reports the local activities taking place that day or within a few days, like sailboat races and dingy flips. Ok, not like our dingy but that’s where the name originated. It’s a hand-made wooden Bahamian boat that weighs several hundred pounds and the boat museum here was restoring one. They needed lots of people to man-the-rails to flip it over. I believe home-made brownies were offered to all volunteers.

Local restaurants and shops offering specials like half off drinks or a pig roast get an opportunity to shpeel their special. Pete’s Pub in Little Harbor advertises the best bluecheese burgers in the Bahamas. They also make a plug for the art gallery next door. The local bakeries let cruisers know when the fresh bread will come out of the oven. Yum, the fresh bread is worth a wet dingy ride all by itself and you have to be quick because it goes like “hot cakes” which I am pretty sure is where that saying came from.

Last but not least, is a cruisers forum of new arrivals and departures of boats. As a boat comes in or leaves the harbor they can make the Net aware of their whereabouts so someone has a record of where boats are traveling. They even offer an email service for families back home who need to contact a boat in the area. Family members can email their message to the Net and the Net will try to contact the boat and give them the message.

When it snowed coast-to-coast in the U.S. in early January we got heavy wind and rain for several days. We were anchored in Marsh Harbor waiting out the blow. We caught a break in the weather and sailed over to Lynyard Cay with some new friends Dave and Rose and Wes on Cloud 9. They are the local racing team but I will explain that later. Lynyard is a small island that is a great shelter from northeast winds which have been blasting us for weeks. It’s also the safe-haven for boats heading south across the New Providence Channel that links the island groups together. The sea goes from eight feet to14,000 feet deep in a few minutes offshore. We anchored next to a multimillion dollar yacht named Onika, which lit up at night like a city. We were right across the bay from Pete’s Pub and those bluecheese burgers were calling our name. So we, and the crew from Cloud 9, thought it might be fun to check out the Pub. This was one of those great ideas that when you look back on it was not so great at all.

We loaded up our dingies for a “three hour tour, a three hour tour.” Can you hear the music yet…you know, with Gilligan, the Skipper too, the millionaires (Onika) left before us in their 350 horse power 25 foot long T-top tender. We could see the rolling waves splashing high in the air against the rock shoreline across the bay and waves crashing into each other at the cut. It was about a two mile trip across to the entrance to Little Harbor and parallel with that same cut we are all waiting to stop raging so we can go through. But somehow we thought nothing of crossing in two inflatable dingies. We started across and the waves kept getting bigger. Was this a good decision? But since we were half way there already there was only one direction to go. We were going to Pete’s. Yup, we were dumb, we admit it.

As we entered the harbor, the tender to Onika was heading back. We can only imagine what they thought of the two dingies filled with brave fools. We tied up to the dock and literally climbed a fifteen foot ladder to get to the top. The tide was out and this little harbor must empty a few times a day and it was short on water now. Some of the boats were sitting in mud puddles. We followed the signs and found the most wonderful art gallery. Beautiful bronze statues of fish, turtles and fisherman battling the catch of their lives. The prices were for the rich and famous but it was fun looking at them. A little further down the dirt road we found the pub. It was a bar and several tables under palapas covered in palm fronds. We spent way too much on food and drinks but enjoyed the company and the view. Right about the time we should have been leaving, the sky opened up and started to rain. Remember the rest of the song? “The weather started getting rough, the tiny dingies were tossed, if not for the courage of the fearless crews, the dingies could have been lost”. We waited for a break in the rain then headed back to the dingies. We knew the ride back would be much worse then the ride coming over. We have the larger dingy with a bigger motor and there were three from Cloud 9 so Rose rode with us.

Here we were in the middle of these huge rolling seas going into the wind and the waves. Not a good place to be. We were all soaked, cold and hanging on for dear life when Liana says she smells gas! Well, the smell of gas was quickly followed by the motor winding down and sputtering. Oh crap, but we realized in all the thrashing waves the fuel line had popped out of the fuel tank. I made a quick fix and we were on our way. It was enough to make us all wonder what on earth were we thinking! We finally crossed the raging bay and as we got closer to shore we could see the light of a bonfire on the beach and a dozen dingies anchored close to shore. Many waving arms were motioning to us to come over. We were soaking wet and the thought of drying off next to a bonfire was irresistible so we motored up to the beach. Everyone was waiting to go through the cut just like us. What’s a cruiser to do but have a beach party. I am pretty sure they invited us just to meet the crazy people who crossed that rage in dingies but we made a lot of new friends. Cruisers like us, all going the same direction. This was Saturday night and we all planned on a Monday morning departure if all went well. Cloud 9’s crew left before us because they had to get their dingy up on deck. Liana and I stayed and listened to old rock and roll music and dried off next to the fire chatting and getting to know everyone. On our way back to the boat it was very dark but we had the city lights of Onika to guide us safely home.

The only one who went out the next day was Motor Yacht Onika. They called a report over the radio to give us all an update on the conditions through the cut. They said they took some whitewater over the bow (and their bow is sixteen feet above the water and they are a hundred and thirty some feet long). Nope, the conditions were not yet suitable for sailboats.

Monday morning at 4:45 am our alarm went off. The day we’d all been waiting for. Liana and I both were excited and restless. The wind was still blowing 20 out of the East but the prediction for the waves was to only be six feet without breaking waves or white caps. Cam and Jan on Te Amour, a Bruce Roberts designed catch, were going to stick their nose in the cut first and let us all know how conditions were. They by far, had more experience and a pretty large boat. They have been cruising the Bahamas for 25 years. At the bonfire, Cam and Jan told us stories about the previous year. A cruising boat and its crew had been destroyed here and the entire crew parished. But they also told of the many, many times they had been through this safely and only once did it shake them up. So they were going to test the waters first. Following them was a boat called Seldom Silent, my guess is somebody is a Chatty Kathy on board. After a couple other boats was our buddy-boat Cloud 9.

We pulled up anchor at 5:45 am and started to make our way towards the outbound channel. Still dark, but it looked like Christmas along Lynyard Cay. Fifteen boats in all traveling south in a great armada. You could see flashlights, headlamps, deck lights, anchor lights, running lights, lights, lights and more lights as each crew was pulling anchor. Most were like us, raising main sails. We pulled ours out to the second reef and secured the boom on center. The sail was just to reduce the rolling at this point and be there in case of engine failure. Before dawns first light we slowly made our way through the anchorage closing in on the channel. The first reports started to come in and the swell prediction was right on target. Six foot rollers with a long period between each and no breaking waves. Good, this was doable by everyone. We watched Cloud 9 roll through the first set of waves and they looked pretty steady. Finally, it was our turn.

The sun was just making its appearance as we looked behind us to see another sailboat that was leaning over, full sails up, and rail in the water. It was a beautiful site. True salty sailors challenging nature and sailing the cut. Someday my caution will be replaced by enough experience to take on fear “full sails ahead” but we are just not there yet. Out of 15 boats, they were the only ones who sailed it. By the time we made our turn south we timidly let out some of the headsail to get our first real tug by the wind. Solid 20 degree lean as our jib slowly rolled out. Our main snapped over to starboard with a bang and we were sailing first six knots then seven. Wow, this feels good. All the butterflies were replaced by exhilaration. We could see white sails in every direction.

Gary, my brother-in-law, made me aware of a little known nautical fact. If there are two boats sailing in the same direction-it’s a race. We had 15 and the race was on! Big boats, little boats, catamarans, sloops, ketches and even a few schooner rigs. We all changed positions a dozen times, the radio was filled with chatter. And these waves were big – bigger than through the cut. We were taking waves over our hard top dodger. One even snuck in to our aft cabin as it splashed down, covering our windshields like we were in a car wash. Boats a hundred feet away from us became obscured in the trough of these waves with only part of their mast and sails visible. We shut down the diesel and enjoyed the fastest day of sailing we have done since we arrived in the Bahamas. It seemed every boat was flat out flying. The swell died down a bit later in the afternoon but the wind stayed 15-20 until around 3:00 pm. We had called Cloud 9 earlier in the day and they were way out in front of the pack. We heard “Land Ho” over the radio and then they were the first to make the cut between Egg Island and Little Egg Island. They let everyone know the waves died down and it was a great time to go through the cut.

Most of the flotilla sailed over to Meeks Patch off of Spanish Wells and a few of us dropped anchor in Royal Island Harbor. The radio traffic was dying out as the last boats snuggled in for the night. Our friends, Phillip and Teresa on Sea Ya went to Meeks & Catatude, a Catamaran being single handed by Ed, came in to Royal. Sea Ya had hung back and buddied up with Ed since he was all by himself. Ed decided on Royal Harbor because it was a bit closer than Meeks patch. And sailing alone, he’d had a busy day in big waves. We watched his mast poke up over the low lying palms on the fringe of the island and then we saw his twin bows come through the narrow entrance. Cam from Te Amour urged him to anchor his boat up behind theirs and Jan started to sing on the radio, “Come a little bit closer now, you’re my kinda man, come a little bit closer now”… She has a sweet voice that even made it funnier. After a good laugh it was all over but turning on the anchor lights. We all made it safe and sound. Thank you Lord for a safe day at the races.