April 9, 1992
Who ever said you'd have a lot of "leisure" time on a sailboat was full of bunk! I've already lost about 6 pounds, judging by the fit of my clothes. Dave has lost a bit as well. There is always something needing to be done, either on our vessel or companion vessels.
We left from Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina, en route to Florida, February 2, 1992 on "Patience", our 34' sloop, following the Intercoastal Waterway (ICW) south because the weather was so foul. We should have left in October like everyone else, but Cap'n Dave didn't get his engineering degree until late December, and besides, I was to do my final open water scuba certification in Florida in March. Finally reaching West Palm Beach after 5 weeks of ICW travel and exploration, we decided to hop off there for the Bahamas. We were headed for a "lighthouse" on "Memory Rock" (about a 10-hour journey). We left at 2200 in order to arrive there in daylight. Well,,, the Gulf Stream took us 22 miles north off our course, and we just couldn't fight it! Our 10-hour journey turned into a 21-hour nightmare! The seas were rough, averaging about 7 to 8 feet. For 7 hours I scanned the horizon searching for "Memory Rock" between the 7-foot swells breaking over us, making it very difficult to stay in one position long enough to focus through salty and watering eyes. The binoculars (binos) were absolutely useless. By the time I wiped the salt spray off and focused, another wave would slap me in the face! Anyway, after pretty much throwing in the towel and calling the search and rescue team I finally spotted a small object on the horizon - looked sort of like a tooth pick - and what I prayed to be "Memory Rock". By the way, we were looking for a lighthouse, nowhere was it ever mentioned that "Memory Rock" is a pole sticking out of a large rock, and that the darned light was BURNT OUT! We had originally planned to head from there to a place called "Great Sail Cay" (about 6 hours further) but we were so exhausted and covered with sheets of salt (looked sort of like glazed donuts!) that we just lowered the hook. It was almost dark anyway. But...since we were smack dab in the middle of a major shipping channel (though we had seen absolutely no signs of life as we know it since we left the good ole' USA over 21 hours ago!) somebody had to stand watch all night. I volunteered so my cap'n could get some much needed rest. My mission was to sit on deck with the spotlight all night scanning the horizon for cargo ships potentially coming down on us. Well....REST was the last thing EITHER of us got! The whole time I was standing watch, poor Cap'n Dave was imagining smugglers would think I was signaling the "drop off spot", while I was scared to death any cargo ships in the vicinity would think I was "MEMORY ROCK"! (I'll never forget that damned ROCK @&!*)
Thank God none of the above came to pass, and at daybreak, in the rain, we proceeded to "Great Sail Cay", a horseshoe-shaped deserted island which offered us some protection from the elements. We arrived about 1700 and there were only two other boats anchored there. A sailing vessel and a motor yacht. The sailing vessel, "Sea Lure" hailed us on the VHF radio to welcome us and led us in the anchorage safely. They invited us for freshly caught mackerel dinner, but we were absolutely exhausted and salt-caked, and needed some time to "lick our wounds", so we politely declined. A gale blew hard that night, and that is another story altogether!
Must close for now and batten down. Have not encountered any inhabited islands as yet, and will mail this as soon as we do. Happy Sails!
April 10, 1992
Let me see, where did I leave off. If it was not for the journal I am keeping (which I will show you upon our return) I would completely loose track of the days. Oh yes, we had just pulled into "Great Sail Cay" harbor, and the sailing vessel "Sea Lure" had hailed us on the VHF inviting us for fresh speared fish. We were still in a state of semi-shock, and really needed the time to gather our spirits. We were quite pleased with ourselves for making that rough journey safe and sound. This was our first "jump" across the Gulf Stream, and we should have been more precautions with the weather. We were, however, so anxious to get away from land, THAT after waiting 5 days for a decent "window" (a break in the weather), found a less-than-desirable "window", and went ANYWAY. We have since learned that when you have to add the word "ANYWAY" to the end of a sentence referring to going sailing, DON'T GO!. Well, live and learn. I have absolute confidence in our vessel "Patience" now. That much good came from our ill judgment. When she would rise up with the swells, she would come crashing down hard enough to lift you off your bunk. And, it felt like landing on concrete! I'm not kidding, nor am I exaggerating! After almost 19 hours of this I am confident that our "Patience" (pun intended) can endure almost anything!
Anyway, after politely declining dinner on "Sea Lure" we listened to the weather on Single Side Band (SSB) and knew a gale was heading in our direction, so, before getting too comfortable we checked all the rigging, battened down, and waited for the blow. "Great Sail Cay" offered us protection from the waves, but the wind was incredible! The whistling sound of it and the constant repositioning of the boat was frightening to me. As tired as I was I could not comfortably rest, and was up off and on all night checking our anchors (since we had never anchored in this harbor before, we were unsure of the holding). But, all was well. We arose about dawn to a most spectacular day! The wind had all but completely died, the sky was a beautiful peach color, and all was well with the world. I brewed some fresh coffee and went on deck to watch the sun rise. Poor Bart (our macaw) had had the ride of his life. I think he spent the duration of the crossing thus far clinging to the side of his cage. It was so beautiful out this morning that I took him in the cockpit with me, and I'm sure he appreciated it! Oh, I forgot to mention that in February, while cruising down the ICW, Bart fell overboard, and Cap'n Dave, in his panic, followed suit - fully clothed and shoed, and I had to do a "man overboard", turn the boat around in the small channel, and get them back on board. Poor Bart was so very, very cold! I put him inside my shirt where he lay motionless for about 2 hours. I was afraid he was in shock. No harm done, however. He's back to his old cocky self. Another lesson learned - don't be underway with a parrot on your shoulder! (Aaargh!)
Sitting in the cockpit with Bart I realized that during the gale we had lost our American Flag. A must when sailing out of the country. And, after being pounded so hard the past few days we refused to let it be, so, we lowered the tender ("Little Patience") and decided to search for it. We wanted to go exploring anyway. Would you believe we found it! In our triumph we took a few beers over and visited our neighboring vessel "Sea Lure". Now, you have to realize that this is the first human contact we'd had since leaving on our "big jump" - and, in all honesty, at times very uncertain we would EVER have contact with anything (human or otherwise) (except, perhaps a CARGO SHIP!) ever again! Jeff (the Captain of "Sea Lure") ended up being an old friend of mine through high school and we even went to Technical school together! We hadn't seen each other in over 20 YEARS! So, we sat and talked about the "good old days" for hours, totally taking my mind off the past two tremulous days. We ended up all being sailing companions on this totally unpredictable journey. Bazaar chain of events thus far. We stayed at Great Sail a few days, awaiting a steady stream of good weather. Dave hoisted me up in the bosuns chair so I could fix some rigging, and the scenery from atop the mast was breathtaking! Never seen such beautiful water! Totally aquamarine in color, with porpoises playing around our bow. I'm in heaven!
We are leaving with "Sea Lure" to "Allens-Pensacola Cay" any day now, then on to "Green Turtle Cay", where I hope I will be able to mail some correspondence. Will close for now.
April 16, 1992
In my last correspondence I was hoisted up the mast in the bosuns chair to repair some rigging, watching the porpoises play around "Patience". There aren't quite as many as I expected to see, but they are certainly curious and quite friendly. Almost let you touch them....but not quite! There is also an abundance of sea turtles who pop their heads up from time to time, and actually give you "eye contact"! The weather is getting better all the time, and after a few minor repairs and preparations, we left with "Sea Lure" for Allens-Pensacola. I believe there is only one residence there, and it is private, so I still won't be able to mail any letters until we at least reach "Green Turtle Cay", which is another days' sail from "Allens-Pensacola".
April 17, 1992
"Patience" arrived in "Allen's Pensacola" without a hitch, but left "Sea Lure" in our wake. We tried hailing them on the VHF, with no response. We were beginning to grow concerned until I saw a vessel in the horizon. It had begun to rain quite steadily and I could not make out whether it was "Sea Lure" or not. They do not have GPS (a satellite navigational system), and since we do, they were to follow us. "Patience" is a lot faster than most sailboats, and it wasn't long before "Sea Lure" was less than a speck in the horizon. It had begun to rain quite steadily, and they finally arrived safely, all donning their foul weather gear. We helped guide them into the harbor, which was a bit tricky because there were several rocks protruding which were barely visible when we entered the anchorage, but with the tide coming in had since been covered. After securing the vessels and cleaning up we dinghied over to "Sea Lure" for some fresh fish chowder and cocktails. Everything tastes so good on a boat!
April 18, 1992
Another gale blew last night. They seem to be quite prevalent here, and I don't think I will ever adjust to them. This time, however, everything stayed intact. It is still raining out, but the guys went spear fishing anyway. "Sea Lure" has a freezer, so we have an over-abundance of fresh seafood. Lots of conch (I hate conch). I have begun (but please don't tell anyone) to like SPAM, though. Wonders never cease!!!!
April 19, 1992
We are all pretty anxious to put our feet on land (besides that, we ran out of beer), so we have decided to head on to "Green Turtle Cay". It's about 5-6 hours from here, and although the weather is drizzly, we went anyway (there goes that word again!). It wasn't a particularly pleasant trip, but we made good time, and passed a few settlements to starboard. I was glued to the rail with the binos trying to see how the "natives" lived. There were quaint little settlements - nothing fancy. Small one-story dwellings, and I assume they make their living fishing. I was getting anxious to get off the boat!
After about 4 hours we could see "Green Turtle Cay" to port, and, once again, had left "Sea Lure" in our wake. Since we had never been to this settlement, weren't sure where to go or what to do. We knew we had to clear customs, and from looking at a chart were able to figure out where the shipping port was, and we assumed that Customs must be close by. So, we hoisted our "quarantine" flag (a yellow flag you must raise as a signal that you have not cleared Customs) and ventured onward. We tried to pull into "Black Sound" (a protected anchorage), but upon approaching the channel it became completely confusing. What looked to us like fishing buoys were seemingly the channel markers, and there were obvious reefs to starboard, and VERY shallow to port. Becoming totally confused, with no one to guide us, we decided to play it safe and turn around and anchor out. However, the sea was so rough we couldn't even lower the tender and mount the motor. This becoming a fruitless effort, we decided to bite the bullet and try the channel once again, after having time to digest the obstacle course. It was quite hair-raising, but, taking things nice and slow, were able to maneuver into the sound without an incident other than frayed nerves. It's very scary entering unknown waters.
Since we had not cleared customs, we hailed the dockmaster (Allen) (who, by the way, remembered "Patience" from the previous owner years prior) at "The Other Shore Club", the most logical place to dock, but they said we could not get off the boat until we cleared Customs. You can imagine our dilemma! After much pleading with the Customs Office, they allowed Cap'n Dave to leave the vessel and clear for us both. When they found we had Bart (our macaw) on board, they just about sent us home! They have no rabies on the islands here, and are extremely cautious about "foreigners" bring animals into their country.
While Cap'n Dave was ashore clearing customs, I was on deck washing her down, when all of a sudden I heard much commotion at the end of the docks. Not able to leave "Patience" I was limited as to what I could see, so I stood on the boom to get a good look. Well, much to my horror I saw "Sea Lure"! She had taken the wrong entrance to that tricky channel, and was completely on her side on the rocks, swinging wildly in the current. The guys were standing on the coral, trying to shove her off. I had never seen anything like it, and I know they were scared to death! A few local skiffs went to their rescue and also tried to pull them off. I have never felt so totally helpless in all my life! After much struggle they were finally freed. They made a "grand entrance" to say the least. I'm sure they were embarrassed as well, because they went as far back in the harbor as I could see, and disappeared down below.
Hand is tired. Will close for now and get this into the mail. The "mail boat" only comes here on Thursdays, so there's no telling how long it will take for this to get to you.
There are chickens running all over the place!!!
April 21, 1992
Well, I am finally allowed to venture off "Patience" onto dry land in "Green Turtle Cay". This settlement is nothing like I had imagined. There are, as I mentioned, lots of chickens running around. Hibiscus blooming everywhere! The "roads" are not much wider than sidewalks, and most folks walk or ride bikes. It's all rather "cozy". Most of the homes are built right next to each other, and, for the most part, immaculately clean! Tiny little quaint homes with tiny little yards and tiny little gardens! "Peas and Rice" seem to be the main staple here, aside from conch, of course (I hate conch!). We ate at one little restaurant and had a cute little blonde haired, blue eyed waitress who made herself at home with us and sat at our table (since seemingly we were the only diners available), and proceeded to tell us tales of all her relatives who had been eaten by sharks (in graphic detail, I might add), and, since I had gotten my Open Water Diving certification less that a month before, made me less-than-anxious to jump in the water! Needless to say I was ready to be free of the thoughts and quickly lost my appetite! Throughout her tales of horror, however, I noticed a common denominator to her stories - all of the "unfortunate victims" were spear fishing, a shark came around looking for dinner, and rather than offer the shark their bounty, decided to FIGHT HIM FOR IT! Now, I'm no great fisherman, but that sounds pretty silly to me. At any rate, we left and went roaming the streets, stopping at a "Bert's Bar", which looked "native" enough, with open-shuttered windows, a few pool tables, and what seemed to be full of locals. One ancient gentleman introducing himself only as "Neville" greeted all the women by putting his arm around them and squeezing their right breast! He came up to introduce himself to me, and I offered him my hand (he put his arm around me, ANYWAY!).
I have discovered they have some mighty strong beer here called "Kalik". Apparently it is not pasteurized, therefore cannot be imported in the US, but sure packs a bang for your buck! I don't know what the alcohol content is, but I was totally unprepared for THIS adventure! And, unfortunately, it TASTES GREAT!!!!!!! I won't elaborate on that evening other than to say we had a rather "large" time!................................!
Next Day.....,,,,,,*&%#* (Aaargh!)
We had to be in "Marsh Harbour", Abaco in a few days for friends flying in, and have to pass through "Whale Cay Passage" en route. There are vessels lined up who have been waiting for days and days for a "window" to jump through. We stayed pretty much glued to the SSB, and finally did get a "window" and went for it. Only 3 of us boats made it through before the "window" closed as quickly as it had opened. Now, I have learned about "Whale Cay Passage" SINCE we went through. If I had known it's history I would not have been so anxious to jump through to get to "Marsh Harbour". This is known as a "killer" passage, and you cannot pass thru unless conditions are right. People and ships have been lost there as little as 2 years ago. Can be a VERY BAD PASSAGE. In a "rage", the tide, current and breakers can be so severe you can be thrown against the rocks. This is an area in the Sea of Abaco where there is an inlet to the Atlantic, and the ocean can become very "confused". I saw the white caps upon our approach to channel, and immediately felt the change in ocean temperament. It was quite a rough ride, though from what I now know, was nothing compared to what it can be. At any rate, one of our anchors was jarred loose from the bow sprit, and with the seas so rough I was unsure that I could hold us on course and made Cap'n Dave hold the tiller while I went forward to secure the anchor, crouching and holding on as I went. Finally got a hold of the anchor (which was swinging wildly on the bow. I was afraid it would put a hole in the boat!), hoisted it up and secured it with some line. However, the sea became increasingly rough while I was at my task, and I became afraid that if I tried to make it back to the cockpit I would be thrown overboard! So, I hunkered down on the bow holding on for my life. Cap'n Dave hollered that I couldn't stay there forever, and I hollered back "OH YES I CAN!". I should have had a safety line on, but was unaware of the severity until it was too late ("live and learn" seems to be becoming a haunting phrase). Well, I did manage to "belly crawl" back to safety, and just about the time I made it back we were out of the "rage", and it was like sailing in a bathtub. Very bazaar. Sadly, though, our companions "Sea Lure" were left back in "Green Turtle Cay", and we were, once again, off on our own.
April 24, 1992
We had a very pleasant sale from "Green Turtle Cay" (after "Whale Cay Passage," that is), and it only took us about 5 hours to make it to "Marsh Harbour." From studying the chart it looked like a fairly protected harbor. Upon entering I was surprised to see about 100 boats anchored there. The entrance was a piece of cake, and we found a cozy spot near the center of the "fleet" and threw out our hooks. It was nearing sunset, and it looked like we just might stay in one spot for awhile, so we cleaned up, ate, had cocktails in the cockpit during sunset, and called it a night. Didn't even listen to the weather - and boy, was THAT a mistake. This was the first evening I felt comfortable enough to let down my guard and sleep in comfort. Unfortunately that evening a gale blew in from out of nowhere. Winds gusting up to 80, with pretty steady 45 knots. We were rudely awoken around 0400 jumped out of our berth, tried to find our pants (which I have since learned during a boating emergency is one of your LAST considerations), found our way up the companionway, only to learn that things were NOT as we had left them. Seemingly everyone in the harbor had drug anchor slightly, and we had all, of course, changed positions. It took a moment to get our bearings, only to discover that what had awoken us was the sound of our bow bumping into this other guy's cockpit! It wasn't long before everyone was up and out, resetting anchors, spotlights shining everywhere, and voices shouting commands. It was really a quagmire! Poor ole' Bill, from "Sarawak" (the vessel we had so unexpectedly come down upon) lowered his dinghy and was trying to reset his anchor - and untangle ours. It was "everyone help themselves and their brother". I was amazed how other folks pitched in where needed. It took us about an hour to get untangled and reset, and by that time it was nearing dawn. We went below, soaking wet, and got our bearings. If you remember, we were having friends and family fly in this day, and I was so disheveled and disoriented with this whole journey thus far that I was indeed in no mood for entertaining! As a matter of fact, I was beginning to wonder if perhaps one of our visitors might agree to letting me have their ticket home in "trade" for a vacation here in paradise! I, of course, would never let my captain down that way, and stood fast.
After dawn good ole' Bill (from "Sarawak") dinghied over to formally introduced himself. He shared a wealth of local knowledge with us. For instance: there were free showers at the "Tiki Hut" (a floating palm frond bar on the south side of the harbor), and Monday nights were "$1.50 Hamburger Night" (bring your own lettuce and tomato of course), Tuesday night was free calypso band and dancing the Mamba and Electric Slide at the covered picnic area there; Wednesday night was "Rib Night" at the "Jib Room", a bar/restaurant/pool hall on the north side of the harbor, with a "one man band" and dancing (real popular place to be on Wednesday nights!); Thursday was happy hour with free hors d'oeuvre at "Mangos"; Friday Steak and Salad Bar night with dancing at the "Jib Room"; Saturday was free movie and popcorn night at "Tiki Hut", and Sunday was "all you can drink for a dollar - open bar - help yourself" at sunset at the "Jib Room" (which he warned could indeed "get ugly"). So, that encompassing just about every establishment in the harbor except the "Conch Inn" (where you can go to the "Conched Out" deck/bar and drink their famous "Conch Crawl" (I hate conch!). It seems like drinking and partying seems to be the norm here. Not at all what I had expected nor had in mind. But - when in the Bahamas, do as the Bahamians do!(???) We'll see. He warned us that there were a lot of "Rummies" around. Not wanting to show my ignorance, I am gathering this means folks who sit around and drink rum all day (fortunately - I hate rum!). Bill was to sail home to New York solo the following day, and I was sad to see him go. He was our first "ships friend" since leaving Jeff and Liz on "Sea Lure" in "Green Turtle Cay".
As I mentioned previously, we were to meet friends and family at the "Tiki Hut" that afternoon, and with them came first string of gorgeous weather! It was absolutely overwhelming the dramatic changes we have undergone on this adventure thus far. I mean, from one extreme to another! We all went diving and exploring and shell collecting. We hung the hammock on the foredeck of "Patience", got a good bottle of local rum and a fresh coconut and pineapple juice (to disguise the rum!), and put on some good tunes, got some fish and Cap'n Dave put on a big pot of Manhattan Fish Chowder, brought out the guitars at sunset and, once again, all was right with the world.
Company stayed at the "Conch Inn" and flew out three days later. From there we pulled anchor and ventured on to "Great Guana Cay", and next to "Man-O-War Cay" and then "Hope Town". Another letter entirely.
April 27, 1992
Welp, it's another day in "paradise"! This weather so far has been really, really awful. I've never seen anything like it! We have had a gale blow here for 3 days now. Winds are steady at 40-45 mph, with gusts up to 52 mph. The gusts seem to have a pattern of coming about every 7 to 10 minutes, and when they come it spins this boat around like a ride at the fair. You feel "glued to the wall". The only way I can explain it is it's like being a June Bug on the end of a string! All you can do is just batten down and wait it out. It's too rough to dinghy to shore, or anywhere else for that matter. I can hardly sleep at all. A few cat naps during the day when I know things are being looked after. Fortunately we are fine. We must have angels on our shoulders. The VHF radio was busy this morning with poor souls who's dinghies had flipped over and they awoke to find their outboard motors floating "belly up", and, unfortunately, some have still yet to learn to set 2 anchors to keep from dragging. I was up way before dawn, and heard a boat captain's distress signal. Apparently he was bringing a new sailboat up from South America, and had never sailed in these waters before. The weather was so rough he was trying to duck into the Sea of Abaco, at the Man-O-War channel. This channel is surrounded by reefs, and in good weather I believe it is reasonably safe, however, this guy apparently had no good charts of the area, and was pleading for assistance. One of the "Alburys" from "Man-O-War Cay" responded and tried to guide him in, but unfortunately the vessel hit the reefs and caught on fire! It was horrible listening to the radio and not being able to help! They sent a rescue team to help, and last I heard when they got to the boat there was no-one on board. I was a nervous wreck! Will let you know the outcome when I discover it. Fortunately this storm has brought us no incident other than frazzled nerves and lack of sleep.
We have met some wonderful and extremely interesting folks in our travels thus far, though. I guess it takes a special kind of person (insane perhaps!) to want to live this lifestyle. Everyone sort of looks out for everyone else.
We came back to "Marsh Harbour" 3 days ago seeking protection from a terrible lightning storm we encountered at sea for about 3 hours. We were returning from an enchanting harbor called "Little Harbour". This is a small, protected anchorage which was settled in the 50's by a man named "Johnson" and his family. He was concerned of the nuclear developments, and took his family to settle there, living in caves at first, then one-by-one building homes for each. You can still go into the original cave and see how they lived, cooked, etc. He is a famous sculptor, and has even done work for the Vatican. He built a foundry, which is still in use today, and his sons both became artists - one a sculptor. It is a fabulous place. Kind of tricky to get in, though. There is a small entrance channel which can only be accessed by most vessels during high tide. On the port side of the channel is an antiquated light house, and to starboard are high cliffs with, what I have heard called, "boiling" seas. This is where the rough surf has created caverns in the cliffs, and as the waves crash against them they foam up and out of the top of the cliff. Hard to explain. Have to see it. It is, however, spectacular. Behind these cliffs we have found "blue holes" which you can dive over and see an abundance of tropical fish - and these "blue holes" are surrounded by coral. You can only reach these holes with soft-bottomed dinghies because there is so much coral you would damage it trying to make your way through.
On the beach is a tiny thatched roof bar (which is built from the wooden bow of an old wrecked boat that old man Johnson originally commanded) called "Pete's Pub" (which, in all honesty, the term "pub" is an exaggeration). We have had the best of times there. It has a sort of "honor" system. If there is no one to tend to the bar, there is a tally board and a cooler of drinks. You mark down what you take out of the cooler and put the money in a cigar box behind the bar. They also serve food (when they have it!). Last evening I took my guitar to "sunset", which is sort of "happy hour", and the bar tender "Pete" pulled his guitar out from behind the bar - set up the "honor" bar - and sat down to play with me until way after dark. This attracted a few more guitarists and a dulcimer player, and we all sat and played and sang and danced until we were "played out"! It was great!
I mentioned earlier that this is a very narrow and tricky channel to enter or exit. Well, old Mr. Johnson has built a dragon sculpture on the beach, and it is known now that when the dragons front paws are covered with water, the tide is high enough for a 5 foot draft boat to make it out of the harbor. Pretty creative! I have, however, seen a few vessels run badly aground in this entrance who, apparently, did not read their charts! Something I have found more and more common. And surprising! We continuously study ours, as well as obtaining as much local knowledge of the areas as possible. So far, so good!
Anyway, we have befriended just about everyone in this harbor, and have decided to venture out with another vessel "Wind Weaver" (the first mate was the dulcimer player - the captain was a rum drinker......but, as before, I won't elaborate) and headed back to "Marsh Harbour". "Rib Night" at the "Jib Room" sounded awfully good to us!
A bad thunder and lightning storm stomped us a couple hours into this journey - seemingly out of NOWHERE! Visibility was almost zero. However, I am proud to say, I was unfaultered, and have pretty much come to the realization that sailing is not always as glamorous as in the romance movies. At any rate, I pretty much stayed glued to the VHF, and, much to my surprise, I overheard "Sea Lure" (remember "Sea Lure"?) trying to negotiate "who dropped anchor first" from "Marsh Harbour". It is a rule that the first vessel to "drop their hook" pretty much has the domain, and if you come after then you must set your hooks out of their path. Evidently "Sea Lure" had dropped first - and another vessel anchored too close. When this God-awful storm crept up, the other vessel apparently drug anchor and came down on "Sea Lure". The other vessel didn't want to reset theirs, and I could hear Jeff from "Sea Lure" politely tell him the rules of the road. It's quite a talent to negotiate with a captain without offending him. I was so excited to hear our old buddies that, as soon as the negotiations were complete, I haled them on the radio and we decided to anchor near them (and as far away from the other vessel as possible) and all meet for "Rib Night". I am so excited!
As soon as we entered "Marsh Harbour" the storm ceased as quickly as it began and the glorious sun appeared, so we had a very interesting reunion. We did learn one lesson, however. REMEMBER WHERE YOUR BOAT IS, BECAUSE IN THE DARK THEY ALL LOOK THE SAME (especially after a cocktail or two!).
(To be continued ...)
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1995 - Terri Robbins
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