San Blas or Bust?

Posted on January 2, 2013 by Laurie

We spent the holidays in the autonomous region of the Guna Yala, formerly known the San Blas Islands of Panama.

We had actually been to the Guna Yala, when it was called the San Blas*, back in 2011, when we were mere 30-something backpackers taking a brief sabbatical – ha! look how that turned out!

*fun fact: the name “San Blas” was “given” to the Guna by the Spanish (invaders). So, needless to say, they prefer to refer to their own land by their own name: the Guna Yala. The people are the “Guna”. You may have read/heard them referred to as the “Kuna”, with a “K”, but alas, they have no “K” in their language. So, Guna Yala it is. Fair enough, I say.

Here are a few great pics of our 2011 trip (pre-life as live-aboards on our very own boat):

Landing in the jungle on the little “airport” at Aligandi

our lodge in 2011

Our lodge from the air

sailing cayuco

where we had lunch!

shallow much?

beautiful Guna, beautiful molas

sewing molas

crowded islands in the Guna Yala

thatched roof and solar panel

Guna women with the mainland in the back

hammock time for the Jones’

Mom in the San Blas

Pretty awesome, right?

Needless to say, we were excited to return to these awesome islands.

So, off we went, from Linton on a mission to re-discover these islands on our own boat. Look at the welcome gift we got on the way!

en route to San Blas

We had heard a ton of amazing stuff from other cruisers and were super excited to explore the famous “swimming pool” and “BBQ Island” of the Eastern Holandes, to snorkel the wreck at Dog Island and generally become part of the cruising culture of this unique region.

The “Swimming Pool” made by the reef in the E. Holandes

the wreck at dog island

On approach from Linton, the Guna Yala basically look like a mirage of trees sticking out of the water, until closer and closer you get and then you see it: small bunches of palm trees on small spits of sand, sticking out of the water, behind barrier reefs.

Porvenir with the mainland in the background

Porvenir with Panamanian Navy boats docked out front

And, it’s pretty darn cool to (safely & comfortably) watch the force of the Almighty Atlantic Ocean stopped by the walls of coral which run the north side of the Guna Yala’s island strings.

a storm coming in off the Atlantic

We spent just about a month in the islands and I’d say our experience was very mixed.

On the positive side, the islands are picture-postcard beautiful, the water is gin-clear, there is total (safe) solitude if you want it and just enough veggie boats coming by and tiny outposts where you can get anything you need.

the best way to see if your anchor is set

now that’s some clear water!

One of the major highlights for us was spending our Christmas and New Year’s anchored off the tiny little island of Wasaladup; Kemah could run around, there weren’t any bugs, there was a really nice breeze and soft, white sand.

Our own private island for the holidays

For about a week, we had the whole place to ourselves. Then, our best buddies on S/V Adamastor joined us and together we made a big ole Tex-Mex Christmas dinner of spanish rice, homemade tortillas and TWO different kinds of enchiladas: chicken with green sauce and cheese with a chipotle-pasilla “beef” sauce. (By the by, I’ve made these enchiladas from Homesick Texan twice on the boat – they are that good! And, I use TVP instead of beef.)

Needless to say, we were in the Yum Zone, with Elf on in the background, twinkle-lights up and a few Santa hats and ornaments hanging around the boat. Life was good.

Xmas dinner aboard S/V Adamastor

By New Year’s a few boats joined us and we had a little party on the beach to celebrate. I had some wish lanterns on the boat and they made for good fun. (Just make sure the dinghys and big boats are clear out of their path if you’re gonna play with fire. Almost learned that one the hard way . . .)

Another experience in the Guna Yala I really liked was dinghy-ing up the Rio Azucar just off Nargana. I guess isn’t so surprising that I loved this, given I always enjoy a good “dinghy ‘splore” and especially if it involves fresh water. However, this river was rumored to have crocodiles in it – so I was a little nervous to jump right into this adventure.

But, after a month in the boonies, we need to wash a few items of clothing (’cause you only need to wear a few items of clothing when you live in the boonies, Tropics-style). And, we needed some fresh water – which we harvested from the river (yes, people do this, including us, you just find a good clear spot that’s running, toss a little bleach in and you’re fine – at least we are, twitch, twitch ;).

Rio Azucar

I am happy to report that we did not see any crocodiles (does that mean they were just lying in wait for us???). But, we did have a little wildlife encounter – emphasis on the “little”:

I had one leg slung over the side of the dink, the mouth of one of our water jugs shoved down into the water* and I was feeling pretty confident – after all, this was my 3rd jug to fill that afternoon, which is harder than it sounds, given you have to basically sink a 6 gallon plastic jug full of air mouth-into running water. And, so far, so good: water jugs were filling without any sign of crocs = win/win!

But, just at the moment I seemed to feel most relaxed, the water started to boil and churn at the mouth of the jug and, startled, I jumped (and screamed a bit). “What the what!?!” It seems a small school of minnows happened by, got swirled to the mouth of the jug and one even made it in! “What the what!?!” Yup, after a year on the boat, this minnow, at the bottom of our water jug, was the 1st fish I’ve ever caught while living aboard . . . and, his presence at the bottom of my jug meant I had to completely empty and refill it lest the little critter end up in the bottom of my water tank aboard Mother Jones – I’m not sure how much bleach would fix that sitch!

Aside from our accidental fishing fun, I found it to be really a neat experience to join in with the locals washing our clothes and getting drinking water from the river. Given how wealthy we “yachties” seem to so many communities we visit (even when we don’t seem wealthy at all to ourselves, when we are in fact super wealthy compared with the majority of people on this planet) it’s basic needs like potable water and clean clothes that show us all to be in the same boat – at least for a few minutes, even if ours is inflatable and theirs is made out of wood.

Rio Azucar – where we got our fresh water & did the laundry!

filling the tanks is hard work (note the bleach above my sleepy head)

Unfortunately, in addition to the fun stuff, some crappy things happened during our month in the Guna Yala. (hence the title of this post . . . get it?)

Crappy Thing 1 and Crappy Thing 2 happened one right after another, within days of arrival. The first of the crappy things was a terrible stomach bug I got when we first arrived. It lasted for four days, twenty minutes at a time. Yuck. Ouch. Just get me out of here!

Thank goodness we had Where There is No Doctor on board to walk us through some re-hydration techniques and confirm our suspicion that if things did not turn around by Day Four, we needed to get professional medical help (luckily things turned around ON day four).

Two days into Crappy Thing 1, Crappy Thing 2 happened: our fridge broke. “Broke” as in leaking stinky ammonia, no way to fix it “broke”. Awesome! Here we sat, in the middle of nowhere, stocked to the gills of provisions for the month we planned sitting in the middle of nowhere with no way to keep said provisions from spoiling. Luckily, our good friends on S/V Adamastor offered – and had space to – keep a few things in their fridge. But, for the month we spent tooling around the islands, with and without them, we mostly went without refrigeration. All-in-all, minus the hours we spent online trying to figure out how to get a new fridge to Panama, I’d say it was a pretty okay experience, being without a fridge that is.

We took it as a (short-timer’s) opportunity to be those super-cool cruisers who go without a fridge full time. And, we used not having a fridge as an excuse to eat fresh food – like super fresh food.

1st Hawaiian Sling Shot

crab for lunch!

yum!

And, as it turns out, there are a whole lotta things that don’t need refrigeration. The main pain for us was not being able to keep left-overs and therefore having to cook every meal, hurry up and eat the same thing all day if we made something big or eat processed foods in single servings. Luckily, we had our boat buddies around to help us eat through big meals and keep some stuff in their fridge (like beer and New Year’s champagne!).

Onto Crappy Thing 3: Damon got a staph infection just above his ankle that swelled to the point it was really painful and immobilizing.

Damon’s Xmas present: a festering wound

We knew to watch out for dark, spider-like veins heading up his legs – signs it was turning serious (as opposed to just seriously uncomfortable). But, given our circumstances (being in the middle of nowhere) and our general approach to medical intervention (conservative) we basically had no choice but to let it run it’s course, aided by multiple hot compresses and a dose of Cipro we had on board. It was almost two weeks of immobility (no snorkeling, no beach-combing, no pulling up anchor, no FUN) before he was ready to pop, be milked and back in action.

In case you’re keeping score, that’s 3 weeks of Crappy Things that happened during our month in “paradise”.

“But, these things are merely circumstantial” you might say. “Surely, the Guna Yala is paradise and not to be missed, right?”. Well, it depends.

In addition to these totally circumstantial farts on our wet-dreams of paradise, there were also a couple of things we found less-than-desirable that are worth pointing out, including:

“Change” aka the unavoidable paradox of “untouched” places & cultures being “touched” by curious outsiders (including us? yes, us). Where there once was no in-organic trash there are now plastic bottles, plastic bags and other flotsam & jetsam. Where there was once abundant fish and lobster, over-hunting has taken a toll. Where there was once peace & quiet on islands like the Lemmons or in Nargana, there is the loud humming of generators to power TVs broadcasting Telenovelas, speakers blaring pop music until 6am and fridges cooling down beer. Speaking of which . . . where there was once only a yearly festival where sugarcane was fermented in a long process to make “chicha” and everyone (Grandmas, included) got hammered (by 9am) in good spirits, there is now Panamanian beer widely available for anyone who wants to experience getting drunk (not just sipping a few) on a daily basis (this mainly involves men, especially young men). And, of course, the traditional dress unique to Guna is going by the wayside – especially in men. Hmm . . . I’m beginning to see a pattern here. Of course, all of this is influenced by “outsiders” (like us, but more likely everyone they see in Panama City or on the tee-vee). Now before you get all “lookiehere, Missie” with me, I don’t have any romantic notions of change always being a bad thing – I know it’s not always as simple as “Vaccines, good; Plastics, bad”. But, like the tip of an iceberg, it’s hard to see what deeper societal transformation from the “modern” world lie just beneath the surface. *And*, I TOTALLY get the irony of an outsider (me) complaining about a bunch of outsiders (“other people”) changing things (it’s like that bumper sticker I see on cars while I’m sitting in traffic: “You aren’t sitting in traffic, you *are* traffic”). But, I try. We try. We try to respect the native ecology and support the local culture as much as we can – like, say, throwing back a small lobster or buying a HUGE crab from a local fisherman. (I kid, I kid, but not really) Seriously, we try to tread lightly and play by the rules (even if there are none, you know there are basic rules, c’mon people!). But, I can’t speak for everyone.
Speaking of other people . . . we saw some bad behavior in the Guna Yala aka Don’t be these people! The Guna Yala, as an autonomous region, has clearly laid out the law of the land that no one except a Guna is allowed to own land or make money in the Guna Yala. It is a place for Guna, by Guna; and they are gracious enough to allow us as guests. However, we met several folks specifically flaunting these regulations: one cruising couple openly told us they were breaking the law by advertising and accepting charter guests for the PAST SIX YEARS; another has created a permanent mooring in The Swimming Pool for the PAST TWELVE (they go so far as to say they aren’t cruisers anymore -“we’re liveaboards” – afterall, they don’t ever move the boat. These folks even have a salt-water aquarium IN THEIR COCKPIT if that tells you how little they move). And, then there’s the much-debated “backpacker” boats which shuttle travelers looking to bridge the Darien Gap through these waters. At around $500 per person, these sail boats and their captains ferry up to 14 passengers at a time from Panama to Columbia – in an unregulated industry, in all kinds of weather with varying degrees of respect for the Guna and their regulations. It’s bad boaters like these that have caused the Guna to recently enact a 30-day limit on permits to cruise their waters. Only time will tell whether this will slow the unwanted changes in their region.

Finally, even if we weren’t sick and our modern conveniences didn’t break and I wasn’t pre-occupied by my over-active conscience and my martyr’s bleeding heart, I would still say this: the Guna Yala just isn’t for us. We found it boring.

*gasp* shun *the horrors of horrors*

It’s almost as if all of the sand-ringed, waving-palm, reef-fringed islands all started to look the same – because they did all look the same to us.

And, we found some of the long-term cruisers to be kind of snooty ala “I can’t believe you liked Bocas! San Blas is the best!” said the nose-upturned-rule-breaking-over-staying-guest-of-the-Gula-Yala

“Yeah, we did like Bocas. Have you ever been?” – us

“No!” – them

okay, whatever

as in, seriously, “whatever” you like is great for YOU (just like whatever I like is great for me, right? it’s not a competition, right?)

The Guna Yala just didn’t hold much appeal for us – for a month. I would totally recommend these cruising grounds to an avid snorkeller, diver, spear-fisher, windsurfer or even someone who just wants to do nothing and read until the cows come home (this is good news for all you bibliophiles as there are no cows in the Guna Yala so you can read FOREVER).

We just don’t like to do those things. And, I didn’t always know that. And, it was interesting to learn that about myself.

So, what do we like? All sorts of stuff, including the stuff in the Guna Yala (clear water, beautiful islands, swimming, solitude). Confused yet? I can understand that. Let me say this another way: we like variety. While it was beautiful in the islands, we had had too much of a good thing and were ready for something else.

I realized I missed architecture, I missed salad (shocker), I missed the diversity of people (locals, travelers, expats, boaters) in places like Bocas, Portobelo or other coastal cruising grounds, where the proximity to (even off-the-beaten-path) transport can provide exploration to more than just a few fortunate boat-owners.

island, normal sailboat & the “Nautalis”

If it sounds a little bit like I’m complaining that my diamond shoes are too tight, forgive me. It’s just that we were ready – oh so ready – to move on at the end of our month in the Guna Yala. Just in time for Damon’s brother to arrive in Carti.

picking up Dylan at Carti

picking up our newest stowaway, Damon’s young brother Dylan

We spent our last few days in the islands playing host and had the welcome opportunity to rediscover the wonder of the Guna Yala through his eyes – before confessing that it is, in fact possible to get tired of “paradise”.

That being said, we’ll end this installment of Adventures with D, L & Mr. K with some more pictures of the paradise we got tired of 😉

MJ anchored in the Central Hollandes

a big ol’ ray in the Holandes

East Lemmons

sandbar off the reef in the Central Hollandes

And, as always, you can check out even more pics of our adventures on our Facebook page by clicking here.

South of the Tropic of Cancer

Posted on April 6, 2012 by Laurie

This week in Georgetown has been busy!

We’ve been doing the usual re-provisioning: fuel, water, food, laundry.

We’ve been excited to let everyone know about Amble Resorts and the possibility that I could be their 2012 Island Intern back in Panama (go vote!).

And, most importantly, we’ve been studying up for our big next legs south to Panama. After tons of consideration and over a year’s worth of hemming and hawing, here’s what we have decided (and are open to feedback on):

How’d we get here? In short, we wanted to take the 1) safest, and then, 2) most comfortable route. Without going into too much detail (we’re happy to, just email us) it’s a big combination of studying the weather, charts, pet-entry req’s, clearing in fees and then, prioritizing what we want to see along the way. Being willing to go “north to get south” (go out of your way to get a better sail) and waiting on the weather will serve you well on making big passages like this, or so we’ve been told. And, that’s what we intend to do.

First thing’s first, as you can see we’re headed West, with the Trade Winds instead of beating East across the north coast of the Dominican Republic and then beating again across the north coast of Puerto Rico. If we were to go that way, once we got to the USVI, we’d be set to follow little coastal jumps all the way down the chain. But, each of the 20-odd countries “down the chain” between “here” (The Bahamas) and “there” (Panama) has different pet entry regulations and entry fees for the boat. Turks and Caicos alone is $200 to enter (for a couple of days, no thanks) and some of the islands I really wanted to see (Dominica) don’t allow pets on shore. So, we’d skip these anyway therefore the advantage of short day sails between islands was kind of muted. Of all the things I’ll miss out on (this time) by not taking the Eastern route, I think I’ll miss the opportunity to see Saba the most: when told roads and an airport couldn’t be built, they did it themselves – my kind of folks!

Also, yes, Cuba (the forbidden zone) is on the way and the anchorage to check in at is just past Guantanamo Bay. If we stop we’ll likely just anchor off the coast to rest but the coast is so steep that we’ll be really close to land. So . . . we’ll keep you posted.

And, finally, yes, it’s a lot of open water after Jamaica, but we prefer the open water with the Trades over beating against the wind. And, we discovered there are a ton of little atolls along the way, which could break up the 3-day trip to San Andres (off the coast of Nicaragua), which is supposed to be great!

From there, it’s a “short” jump from San Andres to Bocas – from 36 hours to 72 depending on the weather.

We estimate the total sailing time on these legs to be about 1.5 weeks, which will be broken up with time ashore and time patiently waiting on the weather. So, just like that, we’re well on track to be in Panama by June, just as planned. Famous.last.words. 😉

I’m not sure what internet options will be available between here and Jamaica so stayed tuned on Spot and we’ll catch up on the flip side.

xoxox,

Laurie

ps. If you haven’t yet taken a second to vote for me for the Amble Resorts 2012 Island Intern contest, what in the world are you waiting for??? 😉 Click here.

The Exumas: Happy Birthday to me!

Posted on March 28, 2012 by Laurie

Ahoy!

I know it’s been a week (or-so) but it’s been so fun it’s been hard to take a minute and write it all down.

Just to get you in the mood, here’s a fun video from my “super” cool birthday week from Thunderball Grotto in Staniel Cay – did you know I can fly???

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e3OG3wg9yMc]

You get the picture, right? We’ve been having a great time. Everyone said we’d have so much fun in the Exumas and they’ve been soooo right!

After skee-daddling out of Nassau as fast as we could, he high-tailed it over to Rose Island. There, we knew we’d see our friends on S/V Hespa, could finally put up our sails and really show Will why we came to live on a boat (read: beautiful solitude).

The 18th happened to be Fran’s birthday (mine is the 19th) and so we popped open a bottle of champagne, whipped up some strawberry cake and had a great time with our friends on Hespa.

S/V Hespa and S/V Mother Jones crew celebrate bdays!

After just a couple of days in Rose Island, we had a great weather window to get down to the Exumas and we took it. After some big waves goodbye to Fran and Wendy, we were off!

We had an amazing sail from Rose Island down to Norman’s Cay, which has a very colorful history.

Norman’s got caught up in the drug trade in the 80’s when Carlos Lehder basically took control of the island and made it his own private playground and business HQ. According to stories we’ve heard, the regular folk (and by “regular” I mean rich foreigners who have land in the Bahamas but who aren’t drug dealers . . .) who had homes on the island were not-so-politely “encouraged” by Lehder to move off the island. Apparently, one ornery resident who lived on a barge refused to move. As the story goes, he had to leave the island for a few days and when he returned, his barge was relocated to the top of a hill. Ahh, those prankster drug dealers, ruining people’s lives with narcotics but entertaining me to this day with their colorful trickery.

In the 80’s and 90’s the Bahamanian government partnered with the Americans to stem the flow to the States, setting up camps on nearby islands and, of course, the Miami Vice.

Today, Norman’s is a popular spot for cruisers to stop, snorkle the coral heads and generally be in paradise. Although the famous watering hole, McDuffs, was closed on my birthday proper, we made a great day of it any way: we dinghy’d over to some unspoiled, abandoned beaches right at low tide (so we ended up towing the dinghy for about an hour), and stumbled upon lunch: a minefield of conch – yum!

After lunch we checked out a remnant of Carlos Lehder’s cartel: a sunken drug plane from about 25 years ago. It was amazing how well-preserved it was.

Carlos Lehder's cartel remnants

And, we got to stop off on this little beauty of a cay to take some pictures and enjoy the shallows.

Damon, Will and Kemah find a nice bench (!) on this lil spit of land

beach buddies!

After a day in the sand, a full belly of conch and a beautiful sunset, I was one content lady.

Warderick Wells in the Exuma Land and Sea Park

The next day we had a hard sail over to Warderick Wells, which is the northern boundary of the Exuma Land and Sea Park (read: a no take zone). It was blowing about 20 knots on our nose and while we could’ve – and perhaps should’ve – stopped in at Cambridge, we pressed on. Arriving just before the Park HQ closed, we picked up a ball in the north mooring field.

Mother Jones is anchored at the top right

Just before sunset we decided to trek on up to the ranger station and beyond to Boo Boo Hill.

Park HQ

The way to Boo Boo Hill -->

Legend has it that Boo Boo hill is named that because it is haunted from a shipwreck where there were no survivors. For years now, cruisers have left mementos with their boat names to bless their journeys and appease these ghosts.

We happily obliged.

Leaving some good ju-ju from Mother Jones

The views from atop Boo Boo Hill were amazing. And, they were a great reminder of how much we appreciate our boat’s shallow draft so we can travel on the inside of the bank instead of on the outside (in the Atlantic, whose waves were crashing on the rocks below).

From the top of Boo Boo hill looking north

The north mooring field at Warderick Wells is pretty cool: the entire middle of the cove is a great big sand bar which connects to the shore at a few points during low tide. The only way in – and out – is a royal blue ribbon of deep water snakes into the cove along the edges. It’s wild to see folks wading in ankle-deep water only a couple of feet from their 6-foot draft boat. And – it sure makes for some careful navigating going in!!!

walking on the sand bar at low tide

Of course, being that the Exuma Land and Sea Park is a “take only pictures and leave only bubbles” no-take zone, the sea life is incredible!!! Upon our arrival and for the next few days, HUGE rays circled our boat. It’s always hard to get a good picture in the moment with scale, but this guy was probably about 6 feet wide! I’m so glad Kemah doesn’t seem to sense them . . . and they don’t bother K when he’s swimming!

a GIANT ray who stalked our boat for 2 days

Onwards to Staniel Cay

I don't know what a "Grandmaster" does, but this is apparently where he resides

Staniel Cay is the kind of place you could come year after year: they have lots to do, modern facilities but you still have the sense of place.

It’s halfway down the Exumas chain so it’s relatively hard to get to in a short amount of time, unless you fly in on the two direct puddle-jumper flights from Ft. Lauderdale a day – wha???

They have a little marina mainly for power boats and we found the Staniel Cay Yacht Club to cater to those fat cats. So, we were super happy when we found the Taste and Sea down the street full of cruisers like us; go there for your cheeseburger in paradise.

Just a 5 minute dinghy ride from Staniel Cay is Big Majors Cay which boasts a resident population of pigs, which swim out to meet you looking for lunch – your lunch. Rumor has it they were dropped off years ago by locals who wisely let the tourists fatten them up and then when “it’s time” they harvest a couple and have a party. Brilliant!

While I have been looking forward to this for months, and thought I was prepared, I wasn’t. I mean, how can you be prepared for being on a Caribbean Island in the middle of no where with farm animals swimming out in the ocean! to meet you. Bizarre.

Swimming pigs on nearby Big Majors Cay!

Lazy bones on the beach

Next on the itinerary of super-cool things to do was checking out Thunderball Grotto. If you’re a James Bond fan, you may remember this cave being featured in a film. I, however, am not an aficionado so I was ready for a surprise. Boy oh boy did I get one!

Thunderball Grotto is one of those “don’t miss it” places that should be on your bucket list. The Grotto is carved out of the underside of a cay. Think about a big salad bowl turned upside down and set on the ocean. Then add some amazing tropical fish in the middle and you’ve got it! There are a couple of entrances from the water which are tame enough to enter with children at low tide without even going under.

I'm the Righteous Babe at the top, about to taking the plunge!

Or, you can go in the hard way, like me: swimming up current, climbing a rope up scraggly limestone and jumping 40 feet down through the top. It was awesome, terrifying and I highly recommend it.

Thunderball Grotto!

Well, we’re off to Black Point in just a minute so I’ll catch up with you in a week or so when we get to Georgetown (the next place I expect to have the ‘net).

Until then,

Nassau

Posted on March 18, 2012 by Laurie

If you’re wondering why I haven’t posted anything about Nassau it’s because I’m a good Southern woman and was taught that “if you don’t have anything nice to say come sit by me don’t say anything at all”. It’s been rough, y’all.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure Nassau has it’s charms beyond the gritty harbor, throngs of cruise ship and Atlantis patrons who packed way too much perfume and not enough good attitudes. But, it alluded us. Perhaps if we spent more time immersing ourselves with locals off the beaten path (generally a safe bet for falling in love with a new place), we’d be the ones saying “give it a chance”, but unfortunately, it wasn’t to be.

While we planned on just stopping in Nassau for a night or two, we’ve ended up spending THREE weeks in the area. Well, that just goes to show us for making plans while living on a boat . . .

For the first week, we were “snowed in”. That is to say, the wind was so high that we opted to stay a week in a marina which isn’t our style, to put it mildly (it’s expensive and crowded). We much prefer to be anchored out in a secluded cove. But, we made the best of it and took advantage of being on the dock to get a TON of boat chores done: we topped off water, fuel, fresh veggies, took both sails down to do some minor repairs, put new grip tape on the swim steps, scrubbed the boat free of all rust spots, sewed new curtains and generally got Mother Jones in “ship shape”.

Getting the sail down with help from our friends on S?V Sandra Maria and S/V Hespa

Repairing the main on the dock - we got it up 1 minute before a storm rolled in!

Repair on the genoa with help from our newest crew member: Will

One afternoon, we even got off the dock!

Exploring Nassau one afternoon we ventured downtown and wandered the grounds of the old hotel Graycliff– which I like to call “Grey Skull”, heh. It’s a beautiful old complex with a couple of simple gardens tucked away in between some amazing pools (I asked, “What’s beyond that pool?” to which the staff replied “another pool” – of course).

*One* of the pools at Graycliff

Rolling cigars at Graycliff just like the old days, now with blackberrys

As we were exploring the grounds, we happened to overhear a new arrival loudly complaining to the staff and anyone who would listen about “What a dump” Gray Cliff is – which it’s definitely not. This incident got us to chuckling thinking about how this woman would fair on the boat: what with salt water baths, curtain doors and doing your own dishes. It’s certainly not a life for everyone, but luckily, it suits us just great!

We wandered downtown that afternoon and quickly found the cruise ship crowd overwhelming. Don’t get me wrong – I love a good cruise but there’s something about a crowd of 3,000 folks that I don’t dig so much anymore. So, we quickly stepped down a side street to a little hole in the wall near the police station for a quick bite before returning back to the boat.

A couple of days later we were happy to be leaving Nassau for a secluded little spot just an easy hour and a half away: Rose Island. It turns out our new found friends, also on a Gemini, Fran and Wendy were also anchored out and we enjoyed a quiet weekend before heading back to Nassau to pick up Damon’s brother, Will.

Rose Island chillaxing

The Gemini is at the end of the rainbow! Our friends S/V Hespa

Then, we headed back to the hook in Nassau* to pick up Will and his stash of lots of fun provisions from the States (thanks, Mom, Beth and Tabatha!). We weren’t able to finish the final piece of sail repair on board so I lugged it up to Phillips Sailmaker (where we were a week ago . . .) and $80 and a few hours later, they finally fixed the job.

Supplies from the US - it's like Xmas on Mother Jones!

Just before heading out of Nassau, we made on final, fun, venture out: to Atlantis. Boy oh boy. What.a.place. Given that you can see it from 20 miles out, it’s not surprising that it’s absolutely GIGANTIC and caters to those who can pay GIGANTIC bucks to be there. But, arriving on our little dinghy into the marina was a whole ‘nother thing.

As we passed 100ft+ megayachts with boats they launch that are twice the size of our 10 foot dinghy. We felt a little like the classic scene from Dumb & Dumber, riding into Aspen doubled up on our scooter . . .

Our whole boat could fit in their boat 3 times over!

Atlantis! Apparently, it stills exists!

Given that it had rained in Nassau that day and it was still a bit overcast, we had the outdoor attractions almost to ourselves which was a.ma.zing. I loved the aquariums filled with all kinds of fish, sharks, rays, sea turtles and coral. There were several aquariums where you could literally walk, or tube, through. Check this out:

Tubing with sharks

Who's in the aquarium???

Grouper

Giant rays

While you can totally visit without spending a dime, before we left, we did drop a few bucks in the slots at the Casino and D came out the *big* winner – ha!

Big winner!

We’re finally out of Nassau now, having picked up our sail, some final fruits and veggies and, of course, Will. We’re headed to the Exumas tomorrow – yay! – and I’m looking forward to spending my birthday in the middle of nowhere . . .

Best,

L, D & Mr. K (and Will!)

*Anchoring in Nassau Harbor, at our last spot, proved impossible for us upon our return. We literally tried SIX different spots over TWO long hours in front of the Green Parrot before giving up and heading to the east end of the island. It’s totally true what they say about anchoring out here: it’s sand over rock and impossible to stick (I think other folks just laid their anchor and chain out and hope for the best – no thank you!). Luckily, we found one patch on the east end and are just shallow enough to squeeze in.

What happens when you try to anchor in Nassau Harbor (sand over rock)

Little Harbour Cay: You Welcome!

Posted on March 4, 2012 by Laurie

2/27

Flo's Place

After the dragging incident, we couldn’t be happier to be anchored in the hurricane hole of Little Harbor Cay.

We had heard that in addition to an excellently sheltered anchorage, the only inhabitants of the island run the infamous “Flo’s Place”. It was touted as a quintacencial island bar complete colorful staff, strong rum punch and yummy seafood. We couldn’t wait. As we rounded the corner, we saw the place: mountains of conch shells littered the beach and up the hill was the bar with a huge “You Welcome” painted on the top.

Arriving around lunch time, we hailed Chester and got the all-clear to come up. It wasn’t two minutes before the two women, Lovely and Marvel, working the bar noticed my henna’d feet and just like that we had arranged a trade: henna and nailpainting for supper. I couldn’t wait.

Although I love my D, getting some girl-time in was welcome retreat. So, I spent the afternoon with the gals gabbing, painting nails, doing henna and hair (they weaved, I watched) while the men retired to the kitchen cooking ribs (only venturing out to kindly deliver us some rum and cokes and a huge sun shading umbrella) – it’s the same everywhere, isn’t it?

Supper was amazing: we had BBQ ribs, potato salad and rice that would make any Texan proud and we were even treated to an octopus salad. Delish!

Chester, Lovely, Marvel and Lover could not be more gracious hosts and we look forward to spending the next couple of days with them.

Here’s to Little Harbor Cay!

Hoffman’s Blue Hole Bday

Posted on March 3, 2012 by Laurie

2/25

Why yes, that *is* a Texas-sized birthday card made out of a Miller Lite box - what?

For D’s birthday week, we checked out the southern Berries and it was awesome! It was an easy trip up to Hoffman’s Cay where we spotted two other Geminis sitting in a quaint little anchorage.

At first, we had a bit of trouble anchoring in the high current and grassy cove, but soon moved about and found ourselves sitting right on the beach (well, about six feet off the beach). We could literally step off the boat, into 4 feet of water and walk 10 steps to the shore. Drafting so little and being able to stand next to the boat is also super-helpful in cleaning the bottom (which I did while D hunted for lobster; teamwork, right?).

After a beautiful first night, D and I took the dinghy out on a little ride up to Hoffman’s Blue Hole. After scraggaling up hill, we turned the corner and there it was: a giant, seemingly bottomless blue hole. Apparently, they’re all over the Bahamas and get their water from trickles in the limestone (there’s no “out” to the hole).

Even though it didn’t seem likely there were any sea monsters calling this blue hole home, we opted not to jump in less we scraggle up some mossy-yet-sharp rocks to get out. Plus, there was a cool cave just under the main ledge and we had fun cooling off, checks out old firepits and the flotsam and jetsom of previous explorers.

We found a happy dog in this cave!

And, he found a nap

Once getting our fill, we headed back to the big boat and D got ready to go hunt for some lobster. After about three hours of locating his catch and getting his technique down, we were rewarded! D came home with his 1^st lobster, yes, 1^st as in “1”. Aww, well. One seabug is better than no sea bugs, right?

D's first lobster catch (of many we hope!)

Anywho, it was another great day on the water – here’s to birthday weeks!

Homemade macaroons!

Talk soon,

L, D and Mr. K

Dragging Anchor

Posted on February 27, 2012 by Laurie

No one wants to drag anchor – it can put you up on the rocks, slam you into another boat or at best, leave you stranded on a sandy shoal until high tide. Suffice it to say, it always sucky, scary and sometimes life-threatening.

We’ve experienced this phenom twice so far and we’ve only been out a month. The first time, we were in Rock Harbor. And, that time we were lucky enough – we heard a transmission about a dragging boat on the VHF radio “right by that catamaran” and even though we thought at the time we were in imminent danger of being hit by a rogue boat – it turns out the dragging boat was across the harbor and secured again before even coming close to us (different catamaran, luckily!). It was one of those life lessons which shouts at you to pay attention while sparing you from any harm; I like these life lessons.

Two nights ago, we weren’t so lucky. For two days, we had already sat in a lovely and picturesque bay just south of Hoffman’s Cay in the Berries. This little harbor is surrounded by several (rock lined) Cays, there is a significant current, especially when the tides change and most of the harbor is grass (poor holding). But, after three attempts, we anchored just meters from the beach in the soft sand, which Damon dug in by hand on the slope of the shore. And there we sat for two days.

We had some company – on the first day we joined two other Gems and a small sailboat – and then, a trawler moved in comfortably to our west. On the third day, the Gems and the small sailboat left and I watched as another, bigger sailboat sped into the harbor, dropped anchor in the grass and quickly went about coming to shore. I was a bit concerned about how easily they anchored given we tried three different spots before hooking in a nice sandy spot without much current. But, they were comfortably to our south, the trawler was to our east and so we sat in a quaint little triangle in the anchorage.

Now, we have a 35-pound CQR with 70 feet of chain we can put out, D usually dives down on it to make sure it’s set and, up until now, I’ve slept like a baby knowing we should really be over-anchored for our boat (the only other time I felt nervous about dragging in the middle of the night was when we anchored at 2am on the churning Shoals on the Great Bahama Bank where only the GPS assured our holding; man was I glad when the sun came up 4 hours later and we skee-daddled on out of there having not moved a degree from our position).

But, on Saturday night, we expected some significant wind to come out of the north – 20-25 knots – which we have experienced before so no problem, right? And, D dug the anchor in and we were over-anchored, right? Hmmm. It’s hard to say exactly what happened that caused the evenings dragging-anchor shenanigans (was it us, was it them, what did we/they do wrong, and most importantly: how can we prevent this in the future?). But, here’s how it occurred to us at the time*:

7pm (dark): D and I were goofing around in the salon, listening to the wind kick up when I got the urge to go out into the cockpit, you know, just to look around. And, what did I find? All three boats in the anchorage (including us) were lined up side-by-side instead of the nice little triangle with plenty of room to swing we were in for the last 24 hours. It just takes a second to go from “hey, wasn’t that third boat much farther away?” to “oh shit!”**.

7:01pm: D and I grab our head lamps and our huge spot light (thanks again, Dad!), scanned the beach and sure enough we were much further off than where we were “securely anchored” just an hour before.

7:02pm: The trawler seems to be in the same place, but the sailboat is now a beam to us, all 4 aboard (including an infant) are out on deck, headlamps on, scrambling and tugging up their anchor. They have clearly dragged north and are having trouble getting their anchor up. Our hulls are about 50 feet from each other.

7:05pm: D runs up on the bow and lets out scope so we fall behind them. We scratch our heads a bit wondering “how did this happen?”, “what do we do now?” and “where are they going”? With the engine on, I’m able to hold us in place as we trail them a bit to their starboard (their dinghy is probably 15 feet in front of our bow).

7:08pm: After tugging on their anchor, they yell to us that they’re hooked on our anchor and we should come up on them (um, okay) while turning into them (sure, that seems safe-r, not!). But, getting close enough to have the leverage to unhook from each other was the only option so we went for it. D was up on the bow, I was manning the wheel and with our big engine we were able to maneuver safely up beside them and get unhooked.

7:10pm: What now? We were free from the sailboat – and they from us. But, where were they headed and would they/we drag again? Given we had enough of trying to anchor in the grass a couple of days ago, we opted to head back to the beach and stick again in the sand – this time with two anchors out. We had started this ordeal with them on our port, now we were behind them and they were slipping sideways in the current to the starboard. In a flash, I gunned the engines and came around their port, slipping between them and the trawler (whose captain was watching all of this madness with baited breath I’m sure) towards the beach.

7:12pm: We eased up on the beach with that (hopefully) perfect speed of enough juice to keep us under control while making sure we don’t beach the boat (we actually can in a Gem but didn’t want to have to dig it out in the morning when the waves and current pushed us aft-in). Within a couple of minutes we had two anchors in, D had set both by hand (in the dark I might add) and we huddled in the cockpit to recap the play-by-play and figure out just what the hell happened.

And, after much head scratching and some geometric drawings, here’s a couple of likely scenarios:

Scenario #1 aka “It was their fault***”: The sailboat south of us had been slowly dragging all day following the current north. At some point their anchor crossed ours and when the winds picked up from the North, they drug us south, too, so we were all in a line side to side. Then, when they realized they were dragging, they tried to pull up on their anchor and we let out scope, causing us to be behind them. Although it’s still scary-as-hell, we take a little comfort in this scenario because it means our anchor was set correctly and held – our boat, until it was pulled by another boat.

Scenario #2 aka “It was our fault”: Yes, we held for two days anchored on the slope of the beach but then the wind changed, and by a lot. This is when we should have either reset, added another anchor or both. It’s possible that when the when changed we swung around and the anchor lost footing, so to speak, in the slope of the beach. With the wind coming from the north, and a dragging anchor, we would have drug south. But, in this scenario, I don’t get how they sailboat came ahead of us (unless we caught each other and they pulled up on their chain), which leads me to scenario #3 . . .

Scenario #3 aka “It was both our faults”: If we drug south (with the wind after dark), they drug north (with the current all day), then our anchors could have crossed and created the sitch. And, we should both know how to prevent this in the future (them with better ground holding and us re-setting with the changing winds).

There is one other, most troubling, possibility:

Scenario #4 aka “Who knows?”: This is most troubling, of course, because if we don’t know how it happened, we can’t prevent it from happening again. Yes, all the safety precautions in the world don’t stop freak accidents, but you sure as hell try to do everything you can to come out on top.

It should come as no surprise, that after the dragging incident that night it was hard to sleep: both ‘cause we were pumped up from the incident and ‘cause the last thing you want to be woken up with is a dragging boat (theirs or ours, again!).

Needless to say in the morning, everyone moved: the trawler and the sailboat apparently had a really rolly night off the beach and moved across the harbor. We are fortunate enough to have a shoal-draft boat and headed into the hurricane hole of Little Harbor Cay where we’ve been riding out the wind in total comfort (Chester and everyone at Flo’s Place have been awesome!).

Life on the water a funny thing: we can literally see their boats rolling in the anchorage from two miles south in our sheltered cove, but they can’t get here. Yet, last night I couldn’t sleep because I was worrying about dragging again (I’m one of those folks who handle an emergency like a pro, only to freak out later – when danger has passed and I have the space to process it).

I don’t post this to freak you out (Mom, Dad, we’re ok) but to share with you that life on the water takes vigilance, constant education and respect for the wind and waves.

We’re so happy to have another SIBC moment with no real consequences behind us and are on our toes for the next one which I’m sure is around the corner somewhere.

L, D, and Mr. K

*It was dark, there was a crisis, so, no, you have no pictures in this post. But, I think you understand why.

**Sorry for cursing, Mom. But, in this instance, it was warranted. I will put a nickle in the jar next time I’m home.

***Assigning blame to shake our finger at someone was never our intention in determining whose “fault” it was. But, we feel very strongly that figuring out if we or they – or both of us – could have done something(s) differently is paramount to staying out of this situation again.

Honeymoon Harbor to Chub Cay

Posted on February 21, 2012 by Laurie

Hey y’all!

Here we sit in Chub Cay. Well, we’re not “in it”, we’re on the outside. Which, if you follow the link, you’ll understand why we’re on the “outside”, squatting in the harbor like the hippies we are. It’s weird here. It’s supposed to be super-fancy but it’s deserted: the victim of the economic collapse. Supposedly Shakira has some property here which she wanted to turn into a mega-sports complex and highfalutin concert venue but, alas, that too is on hold.

We don’t care, though! The 40 or so workers who live here full-time have been happy enough to accommodate me squatting on our anchor in their bay (their boardroom, too) as I use the ‘ole internet to update this lil blog. So, “thanks a ton, Chub Cay Club!” – or should I say, “Thanks a ton, Chub Cay Club Staff”.

One more note about Chub Cay and it’s crazyness: it’s $4.25 per foot here to tie up in the marina!!! For those who don’t compare prices on marinas (I know, I know), that’s a lot! And, considering at least a couple of these yachts are 100 feet, that’s over $400 per night – wow! I guess if you have a 100 foot yacht, $400 per night doesn’t scratch the surface of money concerns – or maybe that’s how we got in this financial mess in the first place, hmmmmm . . .

Anywho, I digress.

The last post left us triumphantly checked into our little marina in Bimini ($1 per foot, I might add) after having successfully crossing the Gulf Stream. What a breeze, we thought! Now, onto cross the Great Bahama Bank – no sweat.

Well, apparently, sweating would be required. And, I’ll get to that in a minute. But, before I allude further to our tenuous crossing, let me tell you about our beautiful anchorage just south of Bimini where we spent a couple of days: Honeymoon Harbor.

Honeymoon Harbor is a picturesque little bay sandwiched in between an island and a spit of land just south of Bimini. Along the way, there is a huge wreck you can dive or snorkel. It’s a great reminder to check your depths in these shallow waters.

Shipwreck off Bimini

We pulled into Honeymoon Harbor and spent a couple of days chilling on the beach, running Kemah and D even made a lobster catch(ing device) in an attempt to score some dinner (not this time! but D is getting his technique down so watch out you tasty little sea-roaches!).

Here’s a handy little tour of our anchorage in Honeymoon Harbor:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fGSt6MfAW-o&list=HL1329852584&feature=mh_lolz]

While we waited for a crossing of the Great Bahama Bank, we were surprised to find our little secluded anchorage fill up with party boats on the weekend. I guess being the closest picturesque bay from Miami has it’s draw. It was the first time I saw a huge yacht with an eerie blue aft light shining in the water after dark. I tried to take a picture of it but found out quickly that taking a night-time still on a rocking boat doesn’t quite work.

This is what happens when you try to take a night-time "still" on a boat 🙁

Here is what it, basically, looked like:

This photographer was standing on solid ground - no fair!

After a couple of days of R&R, we were ready to leave our little harbor for the Berry Islands, across the Bank.

We’re not quite ready to discuss all of the details of our Bahama Bank crossing but let’s just say it was long, it was overnight, involved a close encounter with a ghost-tanker and anchoring in the rolling “shoals” at 2am. Rightly so, we were left seriously considering how we could side-step some of our mis-steps in the future. Fortunately, it was another day on the water where we were ultimately safe, made some good decisions but were definitely uncomfortable. Give me a few beers and I might tell you the story but for now, we’re going to let the past lie and the lessons live on. Moving on . . .

Needless to say, we’ve been really enjoying sleeping in a calm bay in front of Chub Cay and are looking forward to shoving off to explore more of the Berries in a few days. As a former cliff-jumper at Paleface and numerous other spots, I’m really looking forward to trying this out at Hoffman’s Cay:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DfW8yKC0ttE]

And, in case you’re keeping track, it’s almost Damon’s birthday! I’ll let you know what we end up doing, but it’s safe to say, it’ll involve some beers, coconut, mac&cheese and beaches.

all the best to you and yours,

Laurie, Damon and Mr. K

So Many Beaches

The adventures of L, D and Mr. K on S/V Mother Jones

Category Archives: Bahamas