Sailing Community - We Are Not Alone

Big horizons put you in your proper place.  A squall approaching in the Abacos, Bahamas.

We started this trip down the coast and across to the Bahamas by ourselves, just the two of us. In the Bahamas we were seldom alone. And that has been just fine with us.

In the early days of preparing to embrace a new life of extended travel on a boat, a research colleague of many years, Michelle Norris, considered the isolation of a boat and questioned Bud about how he might miss interacting with people.  Bud exclaimed that, in fact we could expect to be interacting more, not less, on the boat, and we might find this life to be rich and full with diverse and interesting people.

We have discovered that the community of people who travel by boat is beyond what we had imagined.  It would be too simplistic to explain that these outstanding friendships arise because we just have so much in common – similar challenges, adventures, and the life of travel.

Conversations with Nancy on her cottage deck in Man O' War Cay.
She revealed that she had been a stunt pilot.

Certainly, it is that, and more.  Consider when many long distance sailors meet, the first question is seldom the most commonly asked question in the world outside of sailing – “What do you do?”  It has been said that this select group is not much different from the Foreign Legion in which questions of a former life is only of minor interest.  More likely the first questions include:  Where did you come from?  Where are you going?  How did you fix that?

Always willing to help, South Africans John, Alan, and Tony assisted Bud in the purchase
and launching of our "new" dinghy in Man O' War Cay.

It is impossible to categorize these individuals as a single ‘type’ of person.  We have met American, Canadian, English, Australian, French, South African, and German sailors. They have much in common but that has little to do with their former professions, nationalities, political beliefs, prosperity or lack of it.

Often in just a few hours, from conversations, sharing meals, hikes, sundowners on the beach, staring up at the stars, these voyagers bond at a level others may envy.  These bonds are remarkably strong. Admittedly, it is still a mystery to us how this happens and how it happens repeatedly.

On a walk to the beach on Man O' War Cay.
John collected and prepared a refreshing coconut water for Shirley and Bud.

Dinghies tied together for a snorkel on the reef at Sandy Cay.
Most excursions were with the entire 'gang'.

John keeps the tradition of blowing the conch at sunset.

The downside of friendships between world travelers is that the parting and heading in different directions is inevitable and sometimes painful.  A breakup of a ‘tribe’ is difficult. This explains why these sailors tend not to dwell on lengthy goodbyes.  Mostly, they say, “Until we meet again”.  These travelers don’t know where or when, or if it will actually happen, but most like to believe it is possible to meet again.

Bud and Tracy with John, John, Shirley, Marita, and Holli assembled before goodbyes.

We thank the sailing “community” for enriching our lives and showing us what Hal Roth, the circumnavigator, described as “the authentic life”. If you think your horizons might be limited or you are feeling isolated, go find a blue water cruising sailor. You may find some good humor, good conversation, and possibly some vicarious adventure. However, you may want to avoid that guy who sits on a boat and never leaves the dock!

Layla at anchor off Crab Cay, Abacos, Bahamas.

Catching up with a small post

Our overnight passages began with open seas, solitude and sunsets like this.

Much has happened since our last posting. In the Bahamas for about 2 months we found that we had such a busy social life that we just had little time (and access to internet) to post. We had many adventures and will attempt to catch up on many of them over the next several days in separate postings.

Little sailors in little boats in the anchorage in Charleston harbor.

As a quick review we are now in Charleston, South Carolina after making a two night passage from St. Augustine, about 200 miles. It was a great trip with nice weather and winds sufficient for sailing and catching a couple of fish while underway. We left Great Sale Cay in the Bahamas about two weeks ago accompanied by our friends Tony and Robyn on their catamaran, Alleycat Too. The passage to St. Augustine included a two night run under moonlit skies. 

A mahi mahi caught while underway on the passage from St. Augustine to Charleston.

There is no way we can begin to summarize quickly our stay in the Abacos...just too much to tell. Check out our travels on the InReach satellite tracking above until we post more.

Arrival in the Bahamas and Catching Up with Black Cat

Gendron family on Layla one afternoon at Mangrove Cay.

Cruising is more than simply sailing (or motoring) around from place to place.  One of the great joys is meeting the other people of like minds that go to the sea.  The cruising community is an incredibly diverse group that challenges one description for them all.  It seems fitting that we would begin our journey by meeting up with another cruising family that was ending theirs.  We met the French Canadian crew of Black Cat last November at the Morehead City Docks, just as they were heading from North Carolina to the British Virgin Islands.  Bernard and Karine had a year of leave from their jobs, and were taking their two children, Victor (10) and Mia (8), on a Caribbean circumnavigation to include the French Islands especially.  We attempted to keep in touch as best travelers can these days by email, and by position reports and messages from their satellite transmitter (InReach) as well as their blog.  We were pleased to hear they were returning from their Caribbean voyage through the Exumas in the Bahamas.  Would it be possible that we could actually meet?  We were preparing to cross the Gulf Stream... 

It was remarkable that after all that time and the distance, there was Black Cat coming into the anchorage in the Bahamas on Sunday, the day after we had arrived.  With hugs and kisses, we caught up on their stories and discussed where we might travel together, at least for a couple of days.  The following day was Monday and Bernard and Richard took the dinghy into the marina to meet with the Customs official.  We learned at the fuel dock that the official was at the airport but would return “sometime today”.   And then we learned that it was also a holiday.  It was “Witt Monday”.  Nobody was really sure what “Witt Monday” is all about, but in the Bahamas (or anywhere) when you are told you have a holiday, you take it.  All other businesses were closed.  This was just one of the many observations you could make that reminded you - “you are in a different place”.  And you know, that was just OK.  A little while later the Customs official arrived and motioned Richard to the air conditioned office.  The official was quite business-like and efficient with assisting in completing the variety of forms. A nod completed the process and then there was the exchange of an envelope of $300 cash for the privilege of staying in the Bahamas.  It was thrilling!

Raising the Bahamian courtesy flag after taking down the yellow quarantine flag.  We are officially cleared in.

After we cleared in, and Black Cat cleared out from Customs and Immigration, we spent a day at the Old Bahama Bay Resort and Marina in West End indulging in the pool, beach, and grill.  

Two free fish (“yellow eyes”) given by a sportfisher for part of our dinner.

The 'Grill Girl', Mia, assisting with dinner.

Preparing one 'yellow eye' for ceviche and the other for grilling.

We then spent the next week cruising across the Little Bahama Banks from West End to Great Sale Cay.  We motor sailed about halfway across the Banks where we anchored at the uninhabited island of Mangrove Cay to wait out a pesky series of squalls with strong winds, and impressive lightning and rain.  We traveled another 20 miles to the uninhabited island of Great Sale Cay and spent the next several days exploring the beaches and snorkeling.  The weather continued to challenge us with wind and rain.  Finally, a weather window finally came for Black Cat to cross the Gulf Stream and return to the US and begin the final leg to a US boatyard where Black Cat would be put up for sale.  We all felt that this was happening far too fast.  We were not prepared to say goodbye but before we knew it, we were helping store the dinghy on deck and then watched as they weighed anchor and left the anchorage.  We waved goodbye as Black Cat headed back across the Banks and, on this leg, to Charleston, SC.  We are sure we will meet up again, maybe next time in Montreal.

Layla with her anchor light on in the midst of a menacing squall at Great Sale Cay.  Picture taken by Bernard from Blackcat.

Early birthday cake for Tracy made by Karine on Blackcat. 

Big kids coming over for play day on Layla.

Victor exploring Layla, down below.

Victor at play on Layla.

Mia, the swimming beauty, on deck.

Moon rising over Great Sale Cay.

Thunderstorm clouds in Great Sale Cay.

Sundown at Great Sale Cay.

Laughing gull seemed to want some company.  He was a repeat visitor in the late afternoons at Great Sale Cay.

Blackcat departing for their Gulf Stream crossing to the US.

We are on our own now.  After leaving Great Sale Cay, we continued along the Little Bahama Banks to Foxtown on the Little Abacos Island.  We indulged in a guilty pleasure of an indescribable lunch of “cracked conch” (breaded and fried) at “Da Valley” Restaurant.  Tracy spent her birthday there snorkeling with the turtles around Hawksbill Cays. 

Cracked conch lunch at “Da Valley” restaurant, Foxtown.

Tracy snorkeling with the turtles on Hawksbill Cays on her birthday.

Sunset at Foxtown, Abacos.

When a weather window opened up again, we headed towards Green Turtle Cay.  We anchored just north of the island in a cove between Manjack Cay and Crab Cay.  This anchorage is the first that we call a “destination”.  Manjack Cay is delightfully tropical, with thick mangroves lining the middle of the cay, coral ledges on the Abaco Sea side, and silky pink sand lining the Atlantic Ocean side.  The water is unbelievably colorful.  We are anchored in a sea grass bed which is littered with living sea biscuits and just about as many sea biscuit tests (dead shells).  These tests are beautiful, and lay on the bottom like a present to be picked up.  The shallower areas are home to sea urchins.  Tracy is in heaven here!  (You may know she spent several years studying sea urchins for her dissertation research.)  Snorkeling on the ocean side along rocky areas, a variety of sea urchins that can withstand the high energy of waves were found, along with sea fans, corals, and a multitude of colorful fish from sergeant majors, huge parrot fish, butterfly fish, angel fish, wrasses, and so many more.  We are enjoying our time here.  We have arrived.

Solitude.  Beach at Manjack Cay ocean side.

Calm day Atlantic Ocean side of Manjack Cay.

Exploring the north end of Manjack Cay by dinghy, watching a thunderstorm pass.

Standing on ancient reef on the ocean side of Fiddle Cay.

Sea biscuit test (dead) on sea grass bed at Fiddle Cay.

Queen conch (alive) in the sea grass beds at Manjack Cay.

Tiki hut in a bay off of the anchorage at Manjack Cay.

But, as we have discovered many times on this travel, the weather will dictate what we do next and the weather will be changing soon.  We will need to find a better place to anchor for “an indefinite time”, as the weather guru advises.  We expect to move on to Green Turtle Cay next, and then settle in at Marsh Harbor. 

Diving for sea urchins at Manjack Cay.

You can follow us anytime by clicking on the map above.  And, please send us some messages.  It is nice to know someone is out there.   

The Crossing

Headed due east into the sunrise.

It all comes down to this:  “The Crossing”.  Much has been written in the various guide books, but “How you handle the crossing will determine whether this is a good trip or a bad one.” Skipper Bob, “Bahamas Bound”. 

There are several places along the south Florida coast from which to cross to the Bahamas. Many cruisers choose Fort Pierce or Palm Beach, as these provide the first opportunity for south bound cruisers to cross.  We decided to cross farther south and here’s why.  The ‘problem’ is the Gulf Stream, particularly for a slow vessel such as a sailboat like Layla.  The Gulf Stream will push your boat to the north, and you must steer to the southeast to compensate.  How much you compensate depends on the width and speed of the Stream.  This all sounds quite simple to calculate, but the Gulf Stream can be wider or narrower than its average width of 25 miles, and faster or slower than its average speed of 3 knots, depending on where you are relative to it.  Most honest boaters, no matter how seasoned they are, respect the Stream and will admit to some anxieties about a crossing. 

Weather also plays a role in the crossing conditions of the Stream.  Since the Stream is traveling north, any wind from the north, thereby opposing the north flow, will cause large short waves.  15 knot winds can cause 10 foot waves in the Gulf Stream!  Have you seen a ten foot wave in a small boat?  Therefore, boaters avoid a crossing when winds are from any combination of wind from the north.  Heading East to the Bahamas, a southwest to west wind direction is ideal for a sailboat, and less than 20 knots makes it a more comfortable ride.

And so we decided to head out from Fort Lauderdale and head to West End on the Grand Bahamas Island, with a rhumb line course of 64 degrees magnetic.  This is a slightly longer crossing than Palm Beach, but has more of a northerly course, and we could take advantage of the Stream rather than fighting it.  There are several ways to plot the course to account for the Gulf Stream.  We opted to use a method where we followed a fixed compass heading rather than having the GPS recalculate our course as we veered north.  At a boat speed of 5 knots, with 69 miles to West End, we steered a course of about 90 degrees magnetic, due east.  This compass heading results in an “S” shaped course as you are pushed north.

“S” curve of our course taken from Fort Lauderdale to West End, Grand Bahamas Island.

We had planned, provisioned, re-planned, re-provisioned, and repeated this scenario several more times.  We were ready to go.  Chris Parker, the noted weather guide for boaters on the single side band radio, forecasted southeast winds at 5-10 knots, not perfect, but manageable.  Our crossing began at 4 am.  We simply could not sleep anymore.  We pulled anchor and called to request an opening of the first bridge (Las Olas Bridge) at 4:45 am. We then meandered through the canals to the next bridge near the harbor inlet.  Tracy steered in the dark passing between the markers – green on the left (port), red on the right – Bud showed a spot light to help illuminate the markers.  As we waited for the bridge to open at 5:30 am, the current pushed us nearer and nearer to a marker.  And on the other side of the bridge, nearly the entire view ahead was filled with a ship.  A huge cruise ship was just arriving, like a high rise condo but on the water.  By the time the bridge opened and we passed through, the cruise ship was at the dock and no longer posed a threat.

We turned out the inlet as the first of dawn began to brighten the morning.  Ahead we could see more lights of another cruise ship coming through the channel.  Soon a pilot boat came along side of us attempting to hail us on the radio but his radio wasn’t working.  Now close enough to hear him shout, he said we must move now out of the way of the cruise ship – “There is no room for both of you in the channel and the ship, she is coming fast.  Move south now!”  And move we did.  The cruise ship up close is huge with maybe 15 decks towering above the water – a massive thing on the water.

The day now began with the calm. No winds.  We had to motor.  We set the autopilot to the compass course, steering 90 degrees due East.  As the sun rose, winds filled in from the northeast at 5-10 knots.  Yes, we crossed with winds having a northerly component.  But the seas were calm, maybe 2-3 feet.  It would be a good crossing.

About 5-10 miles out, we realized that the GPS and compass were differing by 30 degrees!  This was wacky.  Which one do we believe?  We reread the guide books on the crossing and realized that this wacky GPS was normal.  The GPS was showing course direction, while the compass showed our heading.  The Stream was pushing us sideways.  We were “crabbing” to the Bahamas.  We could see from the track through the day that we were making the distinctive “S” shaped curve.

Looking back (west) at Fort Lauderdale and Miami.

We lost sight of land and could no longer see the high rises of Fort Lauderdale and Miami further south.  We passed into the indescribable cobalt blue of the Gulf Stream – flying fish scattering ahead and to the side.  The winds shifted to the east.  We put the Genoa up (the most forward sail on the bow) and increased our speed about a knot.  We were going 5-6 knots and sustained that much of the day.

Several hours later we began to see land on the horizon – not much elevation but a water tower of West End.

We had made it!  We anchored around 7 pm only to find when we dove on the anchor, the entire ‘anchorage’ was hard coral covered with a dusting of sand.  We put out more chain and put on the anchor drag alarm.  We were fortunate that the winds were light and the seas calm, and stayed put all night.  A good end to a great day.

“Q” flag (quarantine) hoisted after anchoring outside West End.

Next:  Arrival in the Bahamas.  Remember, you can click on the map in the upper right hand side of the blog and see where we are anytime.

You know it is time to go….From West Palm Beach and on to Fort Lauderdale

When you stay so long in West Palm Beach, they give fireworks to celebrate your departure.  Actually, the fireworks were for a private party.

You can see a lot when you stay in one place, but at some point you realize that it may be time to move on.  We planned on staying in West Palm Beach for two days, and ended up spending two months.

Young sailors honing their skills at the Palm Beach Sailing Club.  We came here for showers, laundry, and internet.

When do you know it is time to go?

1.  First and foremost, when the weather says, “go soon”, it may be time to go.
2.  When you start to recognize all of the town “characters” on your walks to the library and grocery stores and they acknowledge you as a local not a tourist, it may be time to go.
3.  When you have stocked up on the most essential food items and have replenished them multiple times, it may be time to go.
4.  When you say, “We know West Palm Beach”, you know it must be time to go.
5.  When you realize all of the things you did with extreme urgency, such as the passport renewal, could have been done without expedited service, it may be time to go.
6.  When you realize with your “old timers status” in the anchorage that you can now suggest to new arrivals that they have anchored too close, it may be time to leave.
7.  When you lose your lock to your dinghy at the same dock, not once but twice, it may be time to leave.
8.  When you have a nickname for every boat owner in the anchorage – that ranges from the dead mans’ boat, the vultures boat, the howling dog boat, the Auzzies, the Brits, the sausage makers boat – it may be time to leave.
9.  When you have checked out every episode of multiple seasons of “House of Cards” and “Orphan Black” from the library, it is time to leave.
10.  When you find that most things work most of the time, it definitely is time to go.

We left West Palm Beach for Fort Lauderdale cruising on the outside (yes, sailing) with the intention to wait a few days for a good weather window to cross to the Bahamas.  As we have learned many times, cruising is less about schedules and more about intentions.

While we were in West Palm we helped rescue a wayward sailboat that had dragged anchor while the owners were ashore.  As a reward the owners offered us a couple of nights gratis at Pier 66 Marina in Fort Lauderdale.  We simply had to tell them when we wanted to stay.  We had access to all the luxuries including swimming pools (yes, 3 of them at the adjacent Hyatt Hotel), laundry, internet, and interesting neighbors (mostly the crew) on mega yachts.  We delayed our departure during one weather window to indulge ourselves with all those amenities.  We then returned to an anchorage nestled near the Las Olas Bridge in central Fort Lauderdale and near the canals with many extravagant estates (you just can’t call these homes).

Hanging out amidst the megayachts at sunset at the Pier 66 Marina.  What a nice treat.

Sunset at our anchorage just north of the Las Olas bridge.

Fort Lauderdale is all about boats, boats and more boats.  From the cruise ships, the countless mega yachts, the long distance sailors, and the weekend day cruisers, Fort Lauderdale is the center of a boating industry probably unrivalled anywhere on the east coast.  So if you want boat stuff, you can probably find it here.  Going ashore and leaving a dinghy is difficult in this area. Fortunately, Southport Raw Bar offers boaters a deal.  You can use their dock for $10 and if you eat there, you get that taken off your bill.  It was a pretty good deal.  We had ready access to many stores, virtually anything you could want.

The Southport Raw Bar dinghy dock.  Our access to land while in Fort Lauderdale.

One of the many yummy lunches we had at the Southport Raw Bar – an avocado burger with bacon mayonnaise.  Mmmmmm.  And Tracy ate the whole thing!

The negative side of shopping by dinghy is of course you have to carry all that stuff you are buying back to the dock.  We walked a lot.  We shopped the marine hardware stores (Sailorman, West Marine, Boat Owners Warehouse, and MacDonald’s hardware) several times, and stocked up on spare parts.  We needed a spare alternator belt and it made us walk more than we could have imagined.  Nobody carried it in stock and with ordering and returning the wrong part, and then re-ordering and picking it up from yet another store, we walked 12 miles for that damn belt!  But we kept saying, “think of how difficult it may be to find it at sea!”

Sometimes things are not in stock, and you have to walk 12 miles.

We finally tested our water maker (de-salination unit) and made our first gallons of water just like magic!  This will be a real treat in the islands.  We found a nifty rod holder for the fishing rods to secure them in the cabin and keep them from being lethal projectiles during the passage.  We re-stocked our food stores at the grocery stores several times.  We continue to think this is our last provisioning for a while.

Quiet times at anchor.  Tracy catching up on her journal.

Front row seats at the Ford Fort Lauderdale Air Show for two days over the anchorage.

We have again secured the dinghy to the deck and the outboard motor to the stern.  We are ready, Layla is full and it is now time for us to leave THIS anchorage.

Now we just wait for that elusive weather window…

Remember you can follow us from the link to the InReach Satellite tracker above.