CURRENT LOCATION: Sailing along the islands of the southeastern Bahamas
23 10.918' N, 074 12.256' W

George Town is sometimes referred to as 'Chicken Harbor.' This has nothing whatsoever to do with barnyard animals nor the consumable meat product they provide. Instead, this moniker refers to the fact that many people with plans of heading south to the Caribbean stop here and never progress further. I can certainly see how someone could easily be captured by the social opportunities and amenities (at least amenities by cruisers' standards: grocery stores, free water, etc.) offered here. In addition, the guidebooks make proceeding further south, towards the 'Thorny Path' sound quite ominous. Phrases like 'beating into incessant trade winds,' 'no all-weather anchorages,' and 'no support services for cruisers' echo through the mind. It is no wonder that many decide to remain here in Shangri La. For us, though, the desire for exploration pushes us onward.

The next leg of our journey will take us through our final Bahamian adventure, sailing around the islands of the southeast Bahamas, toward the Turks & Caicos. Prudence will ricochet between islands like a steel ball around the bumpers in some giant game of pinball, as we forge a path to windward.

Day One at Sea:
The anchor was up soon after the morning SSB radio weather forecast concluded, and we were out of Elizabeth Harbour by 9AM. The usual preparations had been made for heading out to open water, including one extra item. We deployed our Aries windvane steering for the first time. In theory, this device should give Prudence the ability to self-steer on a consistent course relative to the wind. Just set it and forget it, we hope.

As we headed for the northern tip of Long Island on an uncharacteristically cloudy Bahamian day, we played with the windvane for several hours before finally getting it to work. As soon as we did, though, a series of squalls rolled through and robbed us of all wind. Becalmed in the pouring rain, we reluctantly started the engine and made our way around the tip of Long Island.

After the rains passed, the winds picked up again. In fact, they picked up just a little too much, so Sheryl went up on deck in the dark and put two reefs in the main. It always makes me nervous having us do deck work at night, so we vowed (once again) to make it a policy to reef before sundown each and every night. We then settled into our 4-hour shifts steering us on long tacks between Rum Cay and Long Island, trying to make progress to the southeast. Well, as it turns out, in addition to the winds coming directly from the southeast, there was a strong northwest current flowing here. With our limited sail area exposed (and limited forward speed), the current had plenty of time to push us sideways and off course. That side slippage contributed so much that we spent the night tacking back and forth across the same path of water.

It was a calm night and smooth sailing; however, between 10PM and 6AM we made only about 1 nautical mile of progress toward the southeast. At first light we shook out the reefs and charged through the current under full sails, finally breaking free of the magnetic hold of that path of water between northern Long Island and Rum Cay.

Day Two at Sea:
Once we were moving again in a productive manner, we deployed our windvane and made the adjustments required to allow it to steer the boat relative to the wind. The Aries windvane is designed along the lines of a Rube Goldberg machine. A wooden vane sticks up in the air to 'catch' the wind. It is counterweighted with lead and pushes a rod which swings an underwater pendulum. The pendulum provides the force to pull lines which are led through a series of blocks to a pulley on the steering wheel. These lines are wrapped around the pulley in opposing directions and, when alternately tugged by the vane, the boat is steered. A mousetrap sprung by ping-pong ball, launched by a toaster lever which starts a bowling ball rolling down a spiral wire track would look right at home on this thing.

Now you can understand why it took us several hours yesterday to get the thing working properly. Today, though, it was easily rigged and dialed-in to keep us on course without any further intervention from us. The fact that it maintains us on a course relative to the wind (rather than a compass course) is perfect for our current goal: sailing as close to the wind as possible.

Ever since we purchased Prudence we have called the electric autohelm OTTO. Among many cruising couples, Otto is a very common name for this all important third helmsman. Feeling that we needed a similar name to give a persona to the windvane, we have taken to calling her SUE. This is an homage to a couple who sailed a Southern Cross 35 (sister ship to ours) around the world, Pat & Colleen, aboard Simmer, just a few years ago. They elected to call their windvane S.U.E., which stands for Steer Us Everywhere. Our SUE did a fine job of keeping us close to the wind all day and throughout the night. SUE never got tired, never strayed from our course, and never asked for an ounce of electricity (which is more than we can say for her brother, OTTO). SUE has definitely changed the tone of night watches aboard Prudence. They are much less work and much more watching. Now the only issue is trying to stay awake while SUE does all the work.

Day Three at Sea:
Yesterday's long tack took us 30 nautical miles south along Long Island. It is, indeed, a very long island. Once we got as far south as Clarence Town (around sunset), we tacked to the northeast and went back in the direction of Rum Cay for a few hours. By 10PM, we had tacked again, and were heading toward the southern tip of Long Island. Getting any eastward progress was truly a struggle. Southeast winds and that ever-present northwest current conspired against us at every turn. Therefore, the day and night required a few trips across the Tropic of Cancer (the line which indicates the limits of the sun's travels north of the equator during the summer). South of this line we have finally reached the Tropics.

This morning we tacked back toward the northeast with the goal of making it to the northeast side of Samana Cay before the end of the day (hopefully, without going north across the Tropic of Cancer yet another time). By mid-morning, the winds faded to light and fluky but SUE valiantly kept us on course. Making 2-3 knots through ever calming seas, we tolerated the occasional slap-bang of the sails as we rolled over a taller wave.

Meanwhile, we have settled into a comfortable offshore routine here aboard Prudence. Daybreak signals the end of our 4-hour overnight watch shifts. The remainder of the day is split into 2-hour watch shifts. The person on watch has the responsibility for monitoring SUE, watching the horizon for other boats, and calling for help as required. Assistance is generally needed when making a sail change, in the event of BIG boat traffic, or when confirming navigational observations & decisions. Otherwise, the off-watch person is occupied with meal prep & cleanup, radio work (VHF chatter with other boats out here or SSB weather information gathering), minor boat chores, blog writing, photo sorting, basket weaving, or simply getting some much needed rest.

By late afternoon, the speed of the boat slowed to less than 1 knot, and the waters went flat calm. Again, with reluctance, we started the engine and motored toward the island of Mayaguana. Although we really wanted to get back to sailing before the night was through, each attempt to slow the boat and find wind resulted only in frustration. We wound up motoring through calm waters the final 80 nautical miles of our journey to the southeast corner of the Bahamas. Although we would have preferred to sail, it was a beautiful starlit night, where OTTO took care of most of the driving. We simply enjoyed the calm seas and beautiful night skies (a unique opportunity for us, compared to previous nighttime offshore passages).


LESSONS LEARNED:
Every offshore experience brings new insight and reinforces old learnings. Here is a list of lessons which are foremost in our minds after this most recent offshore run...

1. Getting quality nutrition and solid rest are the most important chores when on a passage, and both are more difficult than you might imagine. Effort is required to prepare good food on a moving boat (even pouring coffee is a challenge) and conditioning yourself to ignore the noise and motion in order to sleep not much easier. However, the rewards of accomplishing these things are palpable. We have learned that lack of sleep and a sugar-rich diet does not a good sailor make. We prioritize these above all else while at sea.

2. Self-steering devices make life aboard a moving boat much easier. Previously, we used OTTO whenever there was a surplus of solar energy or the engine was running, but is too much of a drain on our meager house battery bank to use throughout the night when under sail. SUE appears (so far) to be quite reliable and does not cost us any valuable energy resource to utilize. Sheryl and I would, therefore, like to recognize both OTTO and SUE as extremely valuable members of Team Prudence.

3. A preventative dose of seasickness medicine before dark may be the solution for the inner-ear challenged half of our crew. At least, in this initial experiment, no side effects were experienced, and effects of the motion were kept to a minimum.

4. 'Beating to windward' was as we had expected it to be, a bouncy ride where you constantly wish that you could point just a few degrees closer to the wind. The effect of the equatorial current, however, was a bit of a surprise. Flowing between 1-1.5 knots along the coast of Long Island, it really slowed down our progress. In particular, we got pushed sideways the most when we were going slower at night (due to our prudent 'pre-reefing before dark' policy). Next time we are planning a passage against both wind AND current, we will calculate the passage time along a rhum line and triple it.

5. Item #1 notwithstanding, a big batch of galley-baked ginger cookies certainly contributes to a more enjoyable passage.