Monday, January 24, 2011

Rum Cay at Last



Arriving at Dolores' Birthday Party








A great sail on Rubicon- thanks Adam


no explanation needed!


January 24, 2011
Rum Cay, Bahamas

Although many friends said they would join us in cruising to this island this year, we departed Georgetown on our own and trolled 4 lines all day hitting our most promising fishing spots to no avail. We arrived fishless, but were greeted with a homecoming welcome, nonetheless. Sue and Oscar provided us with a luscious lobster dinner and the ever-running red jeep. Having wheels on this island is a real plus, especially when you hang here as long as we do. Happy to see our good buddies again.

Needless to say, activities began the very next day, and haven't slowed yet. Our morning bike ride to the airport is a resumed daily activity that we enjoyed last year. Bobby has made everyone welcome, as he always does, treating us to adventure days out on Rock Steady to surf spots as the swell comes up.

All the current folks at the marina made a great pot-luck up at the restaurant Saturday night, and Sunday Paul & I were treated to a great sail on Rubicon, a smooth-sailing St. Francis catamaran. Thanks, Adam, you are a consummate sailor!

Tonight we head to a community pot-luck Birthday party for Dolores, who turns 79 today. We have enjoyed this annual birthday celebration for years now. This year we bring king fish ceviche and a carrot cake. (the fish was given to us by another fisherman with more luck than Independence)
Sooo, time to go. Catch up with us next time on Independence...

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Georgetown, the metropolis

Carol, Wayne, Sharon, Sue

Melanie, Peter, Susa, Paul & Paul on a barge picnic

Pot-luck on the beach
January 18, 2011
Georgetown, Exumas

Independence has been here for two weeks, and as we plan on leaving tomorrow morning, I suppose I should review our stay in this more urban environment. Georgetown is the destination for many cruisers, understandably so, as I will explain.

Cruising down the Exuma chain of islands, one encounters "Family Islands" with small settlements, often including a relatively protected harbor for safe anchorage. These settlements offer at least a market (often part of a private dwelling) which is modestly stocked with the arrival, once a week, of the supply boat (also known as the mailboat). The boat which originates from Nassau, often spends the week with stops at the various settlements & islands in it's territory. Refrigeration on these boats is haphazard, if at all functional, and crates & boxes are loaded on deck, below deck and wherever these old, rusty vessels can accommodate cargo.
Obviously, smaller settlements see smaller deliveries less often, and are low priority for the supply boat captain.
In addition to a market, a settlement may have a bar that might serve food, with enough advance notice. There will definitely be at least one church, possibly more. If you don't have a water maker on your boat, you are also on the lookout for water-- decent well water, or R/O (reverse osmosis) water. A pay phone, in the old days, but more often now the search is for internet. So you make do with what you find, & are happy for it.

Then you arrive at Grand Exuma, the bottom of the Exuma chain, and there is bustling Georgetown. There are government buildings, a school, a library, a straw market, many restaurants, gift & household shops, and a well-stocked- honest-to-God supermarket! A major airport (for Bahamas) is miles away, taxis make a living, and you can go out and hear music or go to a sport bar most nights of the week.
Additionally, for the cruiser, there is a huge harbor protected from all wind direction, and a social network established over the years, that caters to the needs and pleasures of a cruiser. Many call it adult camp, due to the excess of organized activities such as beach volleyball, Texas hold-'em poker games, watercolor groups, swimming clinics, fishing seminars, basket-weaving, dances, pot-luck beach dinners, etc., etc.
Of course, the non-organized activities are all those gatherings and outings with fellow cruising friends, so basically you are busier here than most people are at home.

Paul and I absorb it all for a week or two, till we are on overload, then it's time to head on out. We have bid good-bye for now to our buddies, & will fish our way to Rum Cay tomorrow to join up with a whole other set of buddies! Hopefully, most of these continuous winter cold fronts will begin to subside, or at least give us longer breaks between each front, and we will finally spend more time in the water. Let the snorkeling and diving begin! (we have been bundled up in layers of clothes and foul weather jackets for too long-- it makes for a lot more laundry than we are used to)

Next stop: Rum Cay

Friday, January 7, 2011

Weather is Everything!

Independence at anchor

Friday, January 7, 2011


Six days a week, at 6:30 am, our weather guru, Chris Parker broadcasts the marine weather forecast for the Bahamas. It is around this event that the cruiser’s day hinges. The broadcast is received on the Single Side Band radio (SSB), a ham radio which is almost standard equipment for most cruisers. Alternately, one can receive him on a web chat forum, for those land-based folks who have the luxury of continuous, broad bandwidth, or, later in the afternoon, in the form of an email to all subscribing customers.

If you are a “sponsoring” listener, Chris opens up the broadcast at the end of the forecast, to receive callers with specific weather and sea-state questions. (“We are underway, headed to Mayaguana, with a stop at Rum Cay, should we go straight through due to the approaching front? Or will it dissipate by the time we enter these waters?”) Chris, patiently offers the best advice based on the grib charts and models.

Although I have been listening (and dutifully recording) these forecasts for many years, the whole thing is still a mystery to me. Last night, Chris’ forecast for the Georgetown area included the information that this next cold front would be passing through around 3am with winds clocking west to west-northwest (310degrees), possible squalls accompanying the front- nothing too severe, and winds at about 20- 25 knots (possible 30 in squalls). Sure enough at about 4am, the wind begins to stiffen, the boat points Northwest as a shower of rain gives all boats in the harbor a well-needed rinse.

What amazes me, is how do they know? I mean, these weather guys, they look at some data, and some radar—sure, they know the trends and how high or low pressure affects the surrounding winds—but, jeez, to say that in a certain area at a certain time, a certain weather event will occur in just such a certain way… Like I said, an amazing mystery.

Another source of amazement is our anchor. So after we listen to Chris’ forecast, we make a decision as to the safest and most comfortable anchorage, taking into account wind direction, wave direction if there is a swell and if it wraps around a point or island, as well as proximity to any activities for the day. In settled weather, we drop the hook, let out enough chain, and generally swing with the strong currents that run through the island chains—keeping the waters clear and clean. When the wind howls, sometimes for days, the chain is straight out from anchor to bridle, holding the 20-ton weight of Independence, as she weaves and bobs in the wind. So, just this hunk of steel with pointed edges to dig in the sand is what we count on to hold our floating home from running up onto the rocks. When those cold fronts come through at night, everyone’s VHF radios are tuned to 16, and sleep is light and interrupted by every change in the feel of the boat’s movement, or static on the radio. I’ll save the stories of dragging anchors for another time!

Last night was uneventful, and we wake up, once again, to the beautiful Bahamian sunrise as we listen to Chris Parker on the SSB, dictate where we will spend out the next few days based on weather…

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