St Lucie Inlet, Florida to Marsh Harbour, the Abacos

At 8:50AM on June 30, 2010, we headed for the open ocean out of St. Lucie inlet, south of Fort Pierce and hit the Gulf Stream about nine nm out from the coast. We were lucky to have enough wind of the stern to at least pretend to sail a bit (usually at this time of year, the wind is out of the east and is "on the nose" - that is, you are headed directly into the wind and can't sail).

About 15 minutes into the voyage, the fishing line started screaming with a 10-15lb Bonita on the end of the line (someday I will invest in a scale). This proved to be fortuitous inasmuch as I ate Bonita Sashimi exclusively until we made landfall a few days later.

Around 4PM (at 27°17.091/79°41.272), the engine quit and we set a point of sail. What heading you say? Well, the magnetic compass reads 170°, "Otto" the Autopilot, reads 115° and the handheld GPS reads 011°. Yes, it was frustrating to have three distinct compass readings while adrift in the middle of the GulfStream, but that, to my mind, is just "part of sailing" and the important thing is to remain calm. Worst case, we know the sun (usually) comes up in the East and we can always get a rough bearing that way.

9:50PM, engine quit again, changed fuel filter again. Speed roughly 5.3MPH.

11:15PM, engine quit again, changed primary fuel filter this time.

2:05AM, July 1st - on the Banks! At this point we actually have a depth that the fish finder can read - about 35 feet.

3:03AM engine quits again - I decide to call it a night and drop anchor.

6:30AM, changed secondary fuel filter again - this one quite dirty, added 3 gallons of spare fuel to the tank. Set Otto to 44°

9:50AM, two squalls nearby generating some wind switched to motor sailing, making 7.2MPH.

2:05PM, first sight of land! We can see Walkers Cay and Grand Cay.

5:30PM, ran aground at 27°13.482/78°21.367, literally 200 feet from land at Grand Cay. There is a tricky, visual approach to this area requiring someone to sight the water (the sand banks marked on the charts change all the time and are unreliable). We were so glad to be almost "safe" that we broke open the rum drinks perhaps a bit early and I was distracted enough to miss the channel. Anyway, we were hard up on a sand bank just as the tide was receeding and you could see about four inches of waterline paint on the hull.

We dinghied to shore, found a native "Kenny" who agreed to come out and try to pull us off the banks. He came over in his boat with friend with a boat. The friend had the whole family onboard - mom and a brand new baby and at least three others onboard. Anyway, both boats tried to pull Clarity off of the sand banks but, try as they might, we were hard-and-fast. So, we agreed that Kenny would come back at 8:30 that night to check on us and to pull us off the banks at a higher tide.

Kenny is a conch fisherman and I asked him what his take was for the day and he said "about 242 pounds" (which probably means he caught 242 conchs - I highly doubt he, or anyone he knows, owns a scale). He sells this for $3/lb in town, so that's a pretty good income for a fisherman; however, bear in mind this is probably split by 3 or more people.

At 8:45, Kenny had not showed up, so I began to try to motor Clarity off of the banks, revving the engine up to 3500RPM, going in reverse and forward. Eventually the engine overheated and quit. (Julie later pointed out that this was probably due to the fact that the engine requires a fresh supply of salt water coming in and, since we were on the bottom, the intake tube probably was probably clogged with sand. Sounds plausible to me).

At 9:30, Kenny shows up with just his boat and, without much effort, was able to pull us off the hard. He then towed our boat into the harbor at Grand Cay in complete pitch black (there was no moon until maybe 2AM). He dropped us there and I paid him $70 for his time - money well spent in my opinion.

July 2nd, 2010 found us at the marina in Grand Cay called "Rosie's Place". This is quite an interesting town in that it seems that almost everything is owned or controlled by "Rosie". The marina, the gas dock, the grocery store, even a group of bungalows are all owned by Rosie. This is a rough and tumble town, make no mistakes. While we were there we clearly saw a boat bringing in smuggled goods (mostly groceries and the like) to avoid the onerous 50% import tax. While hear, I got a local to wash out one of our dirty fuel filters with gasoline (price: one Budweiser) and refueled our spare diesel tanks. There was no hope of finding a filter in this sort of town.

11:45AM, depart out of Grand Cay, headed for Great Sail Cay. At 12:45, we finally had light enough winds to where we could calibrate "Otto" so that the compass reading on the autopilot actually matches that on the handheld gps.

To this day, I still use a $99, eTrek handheld gps for all navigation. It is reliable, runs on two AA batteries (and is thus safe from lightening strikes).

Around 2:45, with storms on the horizon, we were able to shut down the motor sail at about 6.5MPH, heding 127°. I see a note in the journal that says "remembering it's a sailboat"

At 6:10PM, we crossed the same exact location we were at in 2008 off of Fox town.

At 6:45, the squalls we were previously enjoying became much more intense and we headed north to avoid them as much as possible.

At 7:00PM, with 40-50kt winds, we decided that the storm ws not avoidable and doused all sails, battened down the hatches and dropped anchor to ride it out. I made a point of going below, firing up the inverter and having the family watch a video during this tumult. Spent the night here.

July 3rd, 2010 at 7:00AM started up again, made it to Spanish Cay by noon.

Spanish Cay is an interesting island in that the entire thing is owned by Don Davis, who also owns the mega-yacht builder Richmond Yachts. Everyone loves this marina as it has a fresh water pool, a jacuzzi, a nicely appointed bar, restaurant and convenience store. It is certainly a welcome break after basically 4 hours without stopping.

Spanish Cay is a great marina, but so far appears to be the most expensive in the Bahamas. They charge $2.75 per foot, per night plus $50 for electricity. With the bit or re-provisioning we did, some lunch, dinner and drinks, when we went to check out the bill was $475. That's for one day! One for the record books. I figure the kids and Julie deserved it after the crossing.

July 4th, about 11:00AM, we left Spanish Cay headed for Great Guana Cay at Nippers to hopefully see some 4th of July fireworks. There must have been 1000 people at Nippers that day and the party was a blast. I will try to post a video of this time soon.

Since it was still daylight at the end of our evening at Nippers (and Grabbers, another famous bar on the island) - and there was virtually no wind, we decided to head out for Marsh Harbour and to make it as far as we could with available light. When the light ran out, we dropped anchor in the middle of the channel and were able to see fireworks all around us unti about 11PM.

The following morning, July 5th, we made it into the Marsh Harbour and promptly ran aground again! This time it was due to a poorly marked channel and because our depth sounder is incorrectly (and temporarily) mounted on the back of the boat, so we don't know depth until the boat has already passed over it. Where we were there is a deep, 20 foot deep, channel cut out of the bottom by dredgers and, by the time the depth sounder alarm went off, we were up on 4.5 feet of water. We could literally see the drop off point about 10 feet off of the stern and were unable to reach it. We eventually got off the bottom by waiting for other boats to drive by making a wake.

At 10:45AM, July 5, 2010, we arrive at Mangoes Marina, which at this point feels like home. It took us five days to get here!

Potcakes and Pigs Feet

Potcakes

In the Bahamas they have a "species" of dog called a Potcake that are essentially feral mutts that belong to no one in particular, roaming the streets. They somehow manage to all look about the same, eventhough they are clearly a mixed breed.

The reason theses dogs are called "Potcakes" is because Bahamian women, generally keeping a pot of pigeon peas and rice cooking on the stove, would find a layer caked onto the bottom of their pots that was unfit for human consumption. This they would give to the dogs.

This must still be the case to some extent inasmuch as when you meet a Potcake they are usually quite friendly and are not hanging about begging for food as one might expect.

The girls befriended a pair of female potcakes that hung around with us for a few days. They looked like littermates and were affetionate. We were careful not to feed them and they literally just walked with us and sat with the girls and let them pet them. One night, they even slept on the dock by our boat and were there in the morning wagging their tails like they were "our" dogs.

They walked with Julie and I to breakfast that morning (for which I had a bowl of "stew fish" - basically boiled Grouper head and backbone in a gravy sauce, and yellow grits - which I had never seen before).

As we walked towards this feast, we did see the potcakes misbehaving. Chasing certain cars that must have wronged them at some point and sometimes barking at bicyclists. Apparently we eventually entered another set of potcakes' territory (they appeared to be male) and ours got sort of skittish and were nowhere to be seen when we came out of the restaurant.

Pigs Feet

The "stew fish" was so delicious that we decided to return the following morning. This time I selected "Pigs Feet Souse" which turned out to be not quite as good as the stew fish (big surprise) but still tasty. I think they basically boil pickled pigs feet in broth with lemon juice and salt. Probably an acquired taste for most, but I liked it immediately and ate it all up - together with my yellow grits. Truly a Bahamian dish if ever there was one.

Sunday at Nippers

Nippers is Legendary

Every Sunday, on Great Guana Cay, a party of epic proportions takes place at a place called Nippers. Although not all that "Bahamian", in the sense that most folks attending are boaties from the surrounding islands, it is a "must experience" Bahamas agenda item.

We arrived in 30 knot winds and dropped anchor. Our big 70lb Bruce did not do the job against those wins and waves and we began to drag. Thankfully the windlass worked well and I was able to pull up the anchor without breaking another finger.

After almost crashing into a boat on a mooring (as in, I had to read out push us away. One more inch and it would have been major smashage), Julie almost fell overboard trying to grab a mooring ball with the boat hook. In fact, it pulled the boat hook all the way in and she had to let it go as the boat bounced over the top of the can. Thankfully, an angel appeared in the form of a Moorings captain in a bad-ass, brand new looking dingy. He handed her the rope tied to the ball and we were cleated in minutes. I later bought him his drink of choice when we met up at Nippers later in the day.

The one rule of thumb, apparently, to be followed on a visit here is not to drink more than two "Nippers" or "Guana Grabbers" as they are beguilingly potent. In fact, after we walked through the jungle and up the hill into the Nippers establishment, there were four football-player-sized fellows trying to ply a passed out friend from a chair into whiich he had fallen into a shaded pit sort of area. He had not minded the drink limit restrictions and was more passed out than any drunk I've ever seen. Eventually they got him in a chair and, on my suggestion, made him drink a glass of salty pool water so he would throw up. It worked like like a charm, but was not pretty.

The layout of nippers is fantastic. It is is three stories high, with two salt-water pools; one cascading into the other and sits on the windward side of Great Guana Cay Island on a white sand beach. The frozen drinks truly are ass-kickers and mot folks have theirs either in one of the pools or out in the crystal-clear blue waters of the Atlantic. Lots of "hot bodies" abound (mine not included) and there was surely some topless showmanship going on.

We decided to spend the night on the mooring ball and head in the next morning, so I ordered my third "Nipper" drink. I don't know what's in them but i tell you, four would not have been a possibility.

The girls had a great time playing in the sand, we had a nice dinner at Grabbers (on the Leeward side) and motore out in the dingy for a rough night on the ball with seas averaging 3, surging to 4 or 5 feet at times and winds of at least 35 knots all night.

Next morning leaving, we heard a high-pitched squeal which I somehow knew was a loose alternator belt. I tightened her up as best as I could but we couldn't realistically run the boat over 1500RPMs, which would have made for a s-l-o-w return home. Thankfully the wind was still howling at 35 knots at just the right angle, so we dropped the ball, motored out a bit to get past the anchorage and sailed all the way back, averaging 6.5knots with just the jib up.

One bit of ~"fun" that happened along the way was we hit a squall where the winds gusted to 50kts and we had horizontal rain. Julie went below and I was left to fend for myself at the helm. Not being ablew to see AT ALL, I had the wise idea of putting on Mackenzie's dive mask to deal with the rain -- worked like a charm.

At some point, i plan to post some photos and vieos we took that day at Nippers.

"What's that Smell" - More Major 'Tingums Busted

What is that Horrible Smell?

Julie says to me after the electronics guy left? We looked in the engine compartment and the bilge was completely filled with diesel fuel. Turning the bilge pump on appeared to have no effect (and was otherwise not a nice thing to be doing in a marina anyway).

The next morning, Julie and I are walking to find a bank (recall I had to give all of my cash away to "Karma" and a friend of mine, Captain Anthony Edgecombe, happens to drive by. He is not only a 500 ton captain, but a diesel mechanic and a hell of a nice Bahamian to boot.

We had actually attended church with him the previous Sunday in Treasure Cay to celebrate fathers day.

Anyways, he drove around to buy a smallish bilge pump, gathered some tanks, and helped me to pump out what we figure was at least 20 gallons of diesel fuel out ofthe bilge. We took the cans into town and paid a fellow with a service station $1.00/gallon to dump the fuel into some big 55 gallon tanks he has there.

Next day, Anthony came back and helped me to finish emptying the bilge and to diagnose the two pumps I have in place. One is "always on" and has a built-in float valve on it (to tell it when the water level is rising in the bilge). It appears to be seized up and is the reason the bilge was not automatically emptied.

Prognosis: Automatic Bilge Pump is Busted. This sort of pump, with the built-in float valve, can only be foun in the states, says Anthoony.

Next, we pulled the "Manual Bilge Pump", which is supposed to come on only when you throw a switch and diagnosed it. It turned out to be also dead and full of water inside of it's electroics compartment.

Prognosis: Manual Bilge Pump is busted. The good news is that this sort of thing can be bought in March Harbor, so Anthony runs me over to the store and I get a 1000 gallon/minute pump for I think about $259.00. He installs it and we are good to go for the moment with at least a manual bilge pump that will work just fine so long as we are on the boat to keep an eye on the bilge. It will not work for periods of time where we are away from the boat so the automatic-float-valve type will definitley need to be done ASAP.

Gas Tank Problems

So as to why the bilge filled with fuel, that remains to be answered. Perhaps the fill hose to the tank has a loose hose clamp or the vent cap is loose. Who knows? Unfortunately, to get to the fuel tank, you have to remove four big golf cart batteries first so that will have to wait for another day. I tell you one thing, when I have the boat retrofitted this winter, I am going to have a gas guage installed! (Can you believe there is no gas guage? That's just crazy man)

Bahamas Update - A Major 'Tingum is Broke

The Inverter is Busted

Inasmuch as we are having problems with brand-new $3,500 Xantrex Prosine 3.0 I installed earlier this year on the boat, the very first thing we did on arrival in March Harbor was to call over the expert in inverters, a fellow who owns "Merlin's Marine Electronics."

He showed up right away and went to work. After disconnecting everthing except the batteries, we found it to appear to be working and "ready to invert".

We then went and bought a power strip, cut off the ends and connected that directy to the inverter (so as to bypass any potential wiring problems that might otherwise exist in the boat).

The minute we hit the "Please Invert" button, a loud explosion (like a firecracker) came from within the inverter which, he says, was probably a transistor blowing up. Just to be double-sure, we reset her and tried again. Same loud pop.

Prognosis: Inverter must be returned to the manufacturer

So we wired the boat to bypass the inverter completely. He was kind and only charged me a service call fee of $50 and was on is way.

We have A/C while we're at the dock so we have air conditioning and the kids can watch videos, so things aren't all that bad -- I just have to remember to either run the engine periodically or to charge up the batteries using a regular automotive-type battery charger I bougt here in town ($144.50)

Some Background - why Sailing?

I have always loved sailing. I grew up in Orange County, California and had the opportunity to learn how to sail at the SeaScout base in Newport Beach. They trained us in Lido 14 sailboats and we once crewed the famous Argus Tallship over to Catalina Island.

When I was about 20 years old, on a visit to the Bahamas with a buddy, we made a promise that we would someday return via sailboat to truly explore the over 2000 islands and atolls that fascinated us.

Our relationship subsequent withered and we lost touch after he got married and moved to Colorado, but the promise remained and somehow lived on.

Later, when I was 26 and had the chance to sell off my half of a mortgage lending and escrow business to my partner, I took it.

As a result, I found myself with a little cash (I think it was about $15,000) and in a position to be able to take some extended time off. I was as yet unmarried so decided that, if ever there were to be time to make a trip such as this, that time was now.

I decided to fullfill the promise

So, I bought an old Ford F150 pickup truck, packed it up with what I thought I'd need and headed out alone, driving from Mission Viejo, California to Miami, Florida. I had no plan, per se; only that I would try to buy a boat once I got to FLorida and sail it over to Florida.

There were many adventures on this trip, and suffice it to say that I did, in factg, fullfill the promise and sailed single-handed around the Bahamian Islands for the better part of a year. Along the way I learned what it meant to be thrown overboard while the boat is on autopilot under power (I swam real fast), what it meant to be dismasted and also that Loran (my sole means of navigation) doesn't function at all in the Bahamas (doh!).

I learned a lot and had tons of fun on that trip and, although I eventually returned to the workaday life, sailing continued to be a part of my life over subsequent years.



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