Welcome Aboard, Padraig!

Common Sense has a new crew member, and very welcome he is! Here's Padraig arriving on the slow ferry from Nassau to Spanish Wells. Padraig Mallon hails from the town of Camlough in County Armagh (just north of the border), where he lives with his lovely wife Clare. He runs a successful air-conditioning business with his two brothers and is very handy with tools and systems - what an asset on a boat! He is also an endurance swimmer, having conquered the English Channel and participated in the Guinness world record open water swim, and an enthusiastic kite-surfer. Let's hope he doesn't need to make too much use of the distance swimming talent - although he did leap into the water to save some beer that went overboard from a Bahamian fishing boat, and was recognised on local radio for his effort!

Padraig turned 35 on his second day aboard, so we celebrated with a chocolate cake - the nine-hour candle was a pretty good alternative to 35 birthday candles. In case you're wondering, his reason for signing up to join us on the Atlantic crossing is that this is his "annual adventure". The whole Mallon family seems to be an adventurous lot. Padraig's personal motto is "if you don't go when you're gone you don't get" - I think it loses a little bit in translation, but you get the gist. We're delighted to have him aboard, not only for his skills and enthusiasm, but also "for the craic".

We're now in Marsh Harbour waiting out some ugly weather so we can start the Bermuda passage. That will be a test of the boat and of us - about a week at sea to cover over 700 nautical miles.

An Encounter with the Filter Boss Boss

(Terry)

So I’m walking along a street in Marsh Harbor, Abacos after a fruitful trip tracking down a) rechargeable batteries and b) a recharger.  Of course, this is not the first world so the charger and the batteries are sold in different places.  The place that sells batteries hasn’t a clue where you can buy a charger and the place that sells chargers doesn’t have any batteries.  Ok, so we manage to get the two combined and home we go to the boat.

We’re walking along this major street and we come across this group of people who’ve just left a hardware store.  The one guy asks “Are there any more hardware stores around there” i.e. where we’ve just come from.  Yep, there sure are I say.  There’s an Ace Hardware, a US chain, around the corner and up a ways.  Ok, cool, we know where it is but unfortunately it closes at 4.00pm as we found out.  So the party decides tomorrow will be good and we all turn and begin walking back to the marina/s.

The guy I’m talking to says where have you come from so I say we’ve been down the chain a bit in the Exumas and we originally crossed over from Florida.  So he then says “OK, you’re Australian and you’ve come over from Florida so you must be the guy who bought one of my systems”.  It’s Andy Keenan, the owner of Filter Boss!  We have a Filter Boss system on board and as fate would have it I’m walking along a street in Marsh Harbor in the Bahamas with a guy I’ve been emailing back and forth re a minor fix to the system.  I think I’ve said on this blog before – It’s a small world.  We could just as easily have been on the other side of the street, or simply walked on past.  Unbelievable.

We arranged to meet later in Mangoes restaurant but he came by in his dinghy to say plans have changed and they’re over in Snappas bar for Happy Hour.  Happy Hour in Snappas today is a bucket of Heineken (4 in ice) and a dozen conch fritters for $20.  So we sit at a table on the deck with Andy, his wife Carol, and four of their friends for beer and conch.  I called it a day at 6 beers but only because we were the last ones there.  Great night – interesting people with a huge range of stories to tell and pleasant company to boot.  One of the ladies we were talking to on a Bristol 40 was actually a horseback guide in Yosemite National Park.!!  It’s a great life.

To Spanish Wells

(From guest blogger Terry)

We motored out of our bouncy and uncomfortable anchorage at Rose Island yesterday morning and into 35-40knot winds in the New Providence Channel. A 5 hour trip to Royal Island was not looking all that good as we pushed into a very angry sea with plenty of spray over the bow and into the cockpit.
I put the sails up and we settled into a more easy motion but then discovered that the headsail had begun to come apart at the top and was unraveling down the leech. Had to put that away before we lost the whole sail. I suppose it’s better to find this out now than one day out into the Atlantic.
It was a terrible trip but eventually we made Royal Harbor and in through a very narrow entrance between two menacing rocks. Inside was like a lake and we wandered about looking for a nice spot with only 6 other boats to contend with. One of them was a massive Catamaran called Hayfu. It has wave-piercing bows and cost some $7m to build up in Nova Scotia. Don’t know what it was doing but the people on it were zipping about in their dinghy at 1.30am for some reason.
Out this morning and over to Spanish Wells for the last 4.5 miles. We’d arranged a slip in the Yacht Haven marina and were heading in when I went aground on a soft sandbank at the edge of the channel. We were so close to the channel I could have jumped from Common Sense and been in it. Lucky I was only doing 3kts so we weren’t stuck all that hard. It was a rising tide so all we had to do was wait and we’d float off so I went down below and fired up the internet and caught up on emails.
A man with his son came by in a power boat and offered to pull us off. The tide was rising and we had only 2 more inches to go to be square but he probably saved us another 20 minutes of hanging around waiting as he pulled us back out. Into the marina and organized for a sailmaker and a marine electrician to visit.
We went for a quick bike ride around town – it’s only 2 miles long and ½ mile wide – and is a superb place. The houses are all brightly painted, gardens are well kept and very nice indeed. We had sundowner drinks on a neighbour’s boat, a Norseman, and they mentioned that they went aground in the same spot. Old story – a marker pole has gone missing from the edge of the bank!
Another couple on board, Dennis and Bettye on a power boat, were chatting about life in general and Dennis’ US Air Force career (which we all agreed was what you did if you didn’t actually want to join the military here) when he mentioned a friend of his was circumnavigating on a Westsail 32. I asked him if that would be Bill Shaw. Small world, it is. Bill was a long time resident of the marina in Kent Narrows where we spent 4 months, and his voyage is being followed by many on the party dock, O-dock. Bill had left by the time we arrived but we have corresponded from time to time. He and Dennis are great friends and Dennis, who lives in St Augustine, actually had Bill’s Harley Davidson in his garage. It sure is a small world.
Anyway, if we can get our sail repaired and our wind generator working again, we’ll do it here if possible as it is a very nice place to be for a few days.
Best wishes
Hoges in a Haven
(again. The Yacht Haven we stayed in in Nassau was owned by the same man who owned this one. Sadly, he passed away only last week and his sons are taking over the businesses.)

Spanish Wells (Carol)

In 1647 a small band of Puritan refugees was shipwrecked on the fringing reef known as the Devil’s Backbone, which runs along the northern shores of the Eleuthera chain of islands in the Bahamas. They managed to find shelter in a limestone cave – the Preacher’s Cave on Russell Island – and proceeded to start a new colony at Spanish Wells.

The population was supplemented by English loyalists during the American Revolution. Today, Spanish Wells is a charming little town with a character unique in the Bahamas. Mostly white (Puritans and loyalists were anti-slavery), the people are pious, hardworking and very community-minded. They speak a distinctive dialect, and certain names and physical types predominate. Sunday is strictly observed – nothing opens except the churches – and most of the island’s work is focused on the sea. I was told that Spanish Wells supplies the lobsters for the whole Red Lobster restaurant chain in the US, which is quite an enterprise for a town of only about 1500 residents.

Stop Press: Padraig has arrived safely on the 'slow' ferry from Nassau

- great to have him aboard!

Easter in Black Point

On Easter Saturday we motored out of Norman’s Cut and then made the most of a brisk easterly to sail down to Black Point, which would be the southernmost point of our Bahamas voyage this time around.  1530 saw us edge our way around a big sandbank and enter the bay from the north. About 15 other sailboats and trawlers were anchored in the bay, but there was plenty of room and we found a good spot in about 8 ft of water just south of the Government Dock. Thankfully we didn’t go any further inshore – the skipper of the Italian boat that did had a surprise the next morning when he woke up in the shadow of a Bahamian freighter negotiating its way in just a few feet from his boat.

The Black Point community has a really nice feel to it. The people are welcoming, but tourism is not their focus - it’s more about church, the school and the local businesses. Kids jump and swim off the dock and old people plait palm leaves in the shade in their front gardens. There are a couple of pleasant little restaurants serving simple meals like fried grouper, burgers or conch salad, and the small general store and laundry are both run by friendly and obliging locals. There is a rubbish trailer and a free fresh water pump for cruisers to use. Most people make some kind of donation as thanks for these valuable services. We gave a pack of four life-jackets to the school – the Principal was very grateful as they were planning to buy some.

To celebrate Easter, I went along to a service at St Lukes Baptist Church – dragged out my most respectable gear for the occasion, but it was nothing compared to the fine silk suits, race-day hats and BIG heels worn by the local ladies. I think the theory goes that, the higher your hat and heels, the closer you are to heaven. The service was in the gospel tradition – with not enough hymn-books and Bibles to go around, we sang and prayed by call and response. The lady leading the service was quite formidable. She had the biggest hat of all – modelled on a bishop’s mitre with lots of gold braid – and a spine-tinglingly powerful voice. There was a pastor, but there was no doubt about who was really in charge of proceedings. The singing was amazing. After so many years attending Anglican school services where a half-hearted mutter is the best you can expect, I found the sound of a hundred men, women and children giving it everything they’ve got, with harmonies and shouted responses, quite overwhelming. The service was long, but participation kept everyone involved – the occasional crying baby was passed around until it settled, while fidgety boys were sent to sit next to a stern-looking gentleman who was obviously some kind of enforcer. He started with a pew to himself, and ended the service with a line of five perfectly behaved little boys beside him.

The only other non-Bahamians at the service were a couple – cruisers also, by their clothes – the woman playing keyboard alongside a local boy on drums, and the man sitting at the back of the church. At an invitation from the pastor, the man produced a set of bagpipes and gave a stirring rendition of ‘Amazing Grace’. And amazing it was – such a contrast of cultures, but each wonderful in its own way. After the service I was given a lift in a golf cart back to the main dock by the stern gent, who turned out to be a very affable and funny fellow, despite the façade. Met up with Terry who had been exploring, and had found a blowhole where waves from Exuma Sound sent plumes of spray 30 ft or so in the air. The area was encircled, not only by salt and seaweed, but by piles of driftwood, nets, rope and plastic debris that had all been shot up through the gap. He had also found an old cemetery, including the grave of Emeretta Sweeting whose dates were 1884 to 1989, making her 105 years old.

Stopping at DeShamon’s restaurant for lunch, we ordered fish fingers (fresh grouper, not the Birds-eye kind) and who should walk in a few minutes later but the musical duo from the church service.  We all introduced ourselves – they were an English couple who have been cruising for years aboard their beautiful  Amel  54 Caduceus of Burnham. (The caduceus is the winged sceptre with entwined snakes, symbol of the medical profession. Elizabeth is a retired doctor). Their names were Elizabeth and Martin – yes, really!

We settled in for lunch and a chat, and heard lots of stories and good advice about cruising in Britain and the Mediterranean. Before we realised it, four hours had sped by and it was time to dinghy back to Common Sense before dark.  Yet again, one of the great pleasures of cruising is the interesting and inspiring people you meet along the way.

Hope you like Terry's awesome sunset picture!

Nassau to Highbourne Cay and Norman's Cay

We headed out of Nassau Harbour quite early, planning to refuel on the way out. Unfortunately we ran into one of those problems that we residents of the First World have to come to terms with – the fuel dock was out of diesel. OK, we had plenty to get us the thirty nautical miles across the Yellow Bank to the Exumas, even if we had to motor all the way – which we did, directly into a light south-easterly wind all the way to Highbourne Cay. The Yellow Banks are a shallow area with lots of coral heads, but happily these are easy to spot in the crystal clear water.

Highbourne Cay was a welcome sight as we passed a bevy of luxury megayachts and entered the marina’s fuel dock. Clearly the fuel prices reflect the cost of transport to isolated places , and the fact that most of the clientele can well afford it - $5.90 a gallon for diesel – ouch! We could only afford an icecream and a couple of grapefruit at the store. Some cruisers we met later on said that those who stay at Highbourne all ‘have a mate for that’ when it comes to unpleasant tasks like carrying the dog ashore for a poop. The anchorage just south of the marina was lovely, however. I snorkelled over to the beach and collected a few legal size conch on the way, but had second thoughts and put them back. I didn’t really know how to crack or prepare them, and besides, they all looked at me with their beady little stalk eyes.

The next day we dinghied over to a gorgeous deserted beach at Oyster Cay for a swim.

Just for comparison, here’s the beach at Las Olas, Fort Lauderdale, during Spring Break!

Next stop on the journey south was Norman’s Cay, a pretty island with a dubious history as the centre of Carlos Lehder’s cocaine empire. All that remains of the high times of the 1980s are a plane wreck in the bay and a row of derelict buildings, some with bullet holes in the walls. Lehder is serving several life terms in US Federal prison, and Normans is now home to a very pleasant little bar and restaurant, some chalets and a small airfield. The couple of nights we spent at anchor here were a bit rough and rolly, with a westerly wind against the currents through Norman’s Cut – there were times when every single boat in the anchorage was pointing in a different direction -  but we couldn’t see too many alternatives.

Next passage will be a longish one down to Black Point, then we plan to head back up to Staniel Cay and to Warderick Wells in the National Land and Sea Park for a few days. Internet is intermittent, so we’ll be in touch whenever we can. Love to everyone – hope those in WA are enjoying some beautiful autumn weather and a safe and happy Easter.

Across the Great Bahama Bank

Although the weather was a bit rough, we decided to make a short run south to Gun Cay, ready to do the long passage across the Great Bahama Bank the following day. We looked at anchoring in Honeymoon Harbour, home of the famous friendly stingrays, but it offered too little shelter so we headed around to the lee of Gun Cay. The island is so low that it offered little more protection from a strong south westerly wind, but we hunkered down and managed OK for the night. OK that is until I looked out at about 2am and realised that the anchor had dragged and we were closer than was comfortable to another small yacht. Resetting the anchor in howling winds and darkness wasn’t a lot fun – the words of ‘There’s Got to be a Morning After’ kept running through my head for the rest of the night.

Sure enough, there was a next morning and we set out across the Great Bahama Bank, a big area of shallow sea between the Bimini chain and Andros, the largest island of the Bahamas. Mostly it is between one and four metres deep, so it’s important to plot your course carefully and to keep an eye on the depth.  The water is clear light blue, like a vast swimming pool. We made reasonable time, getting about 5.5 knots, but we were never going to make it all the way to the end of the bank, through the North West Channel and the fifteen miles to Chub Cay before dark, so we had to anchor out on the Bank. It was sort of exciting to be entirely surrounded by sea, with no land or other vessels anywhere in sight. As the sun set, more and more stars became visible – it was beautiful, though the wind did pick up during the night, and It was difficult to sleep having read all those stories about Bahamian freighters ploughing into boats at anchor on the Bank…. I slept on the deck with one eye open.

Strong winds again the next day as we set off at sunrise for Frazer’s Hog Cay, at the south end of the Berry Islands group. Only a handful of people live on Frazers, but it has a small marina called the Berry Islands Club where you can shower, eat, refuel and tie up to a mooring. We went for a bit of an explore round the island, which was mostly mangroves, scrub and a shallow tidal beach. Apparently it gets busy during the game fishing season, when the slips and chalets fill up and all the services that support it come back to life. We saw the island at its best on the morning we left; calm conditions revealed deep clear water and an abundance of life. We saw sharks slithering along the bottom at 20ft and fish everywhere.

We motored the 30 nautical miles to Nassau Harbour, directly into a light breeze. Our destination was visible many miles out, thanks to the huge pink towers of Atlantis on Paradise Island and the line-up of almost equally huge cruise ships just inside the harbour.

With its colourful history of piracy, slaving, drug-running and seedy waterfront activity, I had expected Nassau to look a lot more, well, seedy. What it’s mostly about, however, is boats. Boats of every size and description from the liners and mega-yachts to flotillas of charter yachts to tiny fishing boats to ancient rotting hulks that are anyone’s guess what they do. We docked at Nassau Yacht Haven in what appears to be the French-Canadian quarter, where the conventions appear to be 1. Very high speed entry into your slip and 2. Serious wine consumption any time after 10am.

A walk around the downtown area quickly reveals just how hard the Bahamas has been hit by the global recession. So many boarded-up houses and closed-down businesses. Lots of places surrounded by razor-wire because of unemployment and the corresponding rise in crime. The supermarket, museum and some of the restaurants recommended in our Cruising Guide were out of business or on the way out. It’s sad to see, especially after the conspicuous wealth of southern Florida. Still, there is plenty of energy and optimism here. You meet people like Roosevelt and Cheryl, who have come to Nassau from more remote islands to work hard at their fish shack and earn enough to  make a life for their family. The whole baby snapper fried in lime and chilli - washed down with ice-cold Kalik beer - was excellent!