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C'est la Vie
C'est la Vie
Port: Everglades City, FL
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killing time in Georgetown
Thursday August 14th 2008, Elizabeth Harbor

We are stalled here in Georgetown waiting to see what the low pressure system to our south is going to do. Anne is feeling better and better with each passing day. We have signed up for a week of wifi service with a local provider. Having an internet connection allows us check the weather, catch up on some work, and update our friends. We are also stocking up on naps and consuming the library of books aboard C'est la Vie.

When is checkout time?
Tuesday August 12th 2008, Georgetown, Exumas

Anne seems to be on a slow rebound. She did manage to consume most of her P&P pancake breakfast. Determined eke every second of air conditioning, TV, and internet out of our room we lounged around until just after the noon check out time.
In the image, Anne is playing the hook and ring game that seems to be a staple of any nautical establishment. I'm inspired to find a place on Sunset Island for one.
The Building in the background is the P&P bar. The building was originally the cookhouse built in loyalist period in the late 1700's. The walls are 18" thick and Neville claims it is the world's best site for hurricane parties. We hope not to test this theory, but are keeping our eye on a tropical low that is threatening our area.
Back on the boat. We spent the remainder of the day taking care of our to-do list... we changed the oil, changed the fuel filters, and reprovisioned.

Down for the count at the Peace & Plenty
Monday August 11th 2008, Georgetown, Exumas

Anne is sick. We think is may be something she ate at the Chat'n'Chill cookout. I am as of yet unaffected, but Anne spent last night heaving into the head on C'est la Vie. In an act of compassion I moved the boat to town and got a hotel room at the Peace and Plenty (P&P) in Georgetown. The image included is of the patio area of the P&P. Volleyball Beach is visible in the background, left of the flag poles.
After a long shower, Anne crashed out in front of the TV's non-stop Olympic coverage. I spent the afternoon in search of supplies - propane, water, fuel, etc.
By evening, Anne was well enough to wander out of the room. On a pass through the P&P bar, the manager Neville, offer to buy us a drink and asked about or accommodations. One drink turned into four and two baskets of conch fritters. We spoke at length with Neville and Danny, the Commodore of Family Island Regatta. We enjoyed the evening's conversation. Neville was very generous with the drinks and food. Anne mostly drank water, but by the end of the evening was persuaded to try some rum and coke. Back to the room.
The P&P is a wonderful hotel and well run by Neville and his team. If you want more information visit the website:

Volleyball Beach
Sunday August 10th 2008, Stocking Island, Exumas

Every winter hundreds of cruising vessels arrive in Elizabeth Harbor, Exumas and create a vibrant floating community. The floating community is very important to the local economy. Many businesses cater to the population of cruisers that inhabit the harbor from December - April. Currently there are approximately 10 occupied cruising vessels in the harbor.
One very popular gathering spot is Volleyball Beach and its associated grill/bar the Chat'n'Chill. The image included is of Volleyball Beach from the bow of C'est la Vie. Despite the low number of vessels in the harbor the Chat'n'Chill still hosted its popular Sunday Cookout. Yep you guessed it meat (chicken), peas & rice, slaw, and mac & cheese... it's the island way, Mon. After wrapping up the splicing session (pun intended), we spent the remainder of our Sunday lounging in the beach in the shade of the casuarinas pines. I thought I would be absorbed by my current read, Don't Stop the Carnival by Herman Wouk, but the people watching dominated our time on the beach. So diverse and intertwined were the beach goes that midway through the afternoon Anne stated that she felt as if she were in a United Colors of Benetton advertisement. There was a wedding party for a couple, he was Japanese and she was from the States. The swing in the tree behind us was popular with the kids and parents from the US frat boy persuasion to a family from India. Often the children lasted longer that the parents so parents ended up push other people's children as everyone took turns. Statements in swimwear ranged from the self conscious Midwestern mother wearing the built in skirt type suit to the rail thin Italian guy in the short boy shorts, to the random thong lost in voluminous pale cheeks to the must avoid all contact with UV rays body wrap including a balaclava. We enjoyed our day on the beach, but achieved little reading.

Sunday August 10th 2008, Elizabeth Harbor

Albert & Marta would not allow us to row away from Maralga without taking the 5 meter piece of inch Dacron line they had used to replace the webbing painter line on the bow of Origami.
The following morning, utilizing the early silence aboard C'est la Vie, I set up the splicing station (see image included) and set about making some changes in Origami's leash.
Don't worry the filthy cutting board pictured is not from Anne's galley. This cutting board is part of the shop supplies. Among the other required splicing implements are an iPod, explicit directions with pictures, a Leatherman tool, and a fid. Unfortunately I missed the splicing workshop hosted by Bill Gorton last time he visited Sunset Island. I had to go it alone - self reliance. So successful was the splicing station that I end up splicing both ends of Origami's new painter, both ends of Origami's anchor rode, and both ends of C'est la Vie's mooring bridle. Hey practice makes perfect.

Saturday August 9th 2008, Exumas

Overnight the winds continued to veer and after a dark thirty squall they finally settled back around to south. The weather and tides looked appropriate for our short 15NM, southeast run on the sound side between Square Rock Cut and Conch Cay Cut. There are few cuts and no navigable routes on the banks in this area. Vessels must travel in the sound to access northern entrance to Elizabeth Harbor at Conch Cay. We prepped the boat, triple checked Origami's painter line, hoisted the main, and motored sailed out Square Rock Cut without incident. The 15 nautical miles passed uneventfully in standard fashion, motor sailing close hauled under the main. Due to a couple reefs that break in larger swells the entrance at Conch Cay has a bad reputation. As we approach the cut the winds are south at 10 knots with an ebbing tide. Our passage through the waters is uneventful until, just off Goat Cay... with a stinging familiarity Anne looks back and shouts, "Where is Origami?"
My mind races, "WHAT? NO, NO, NO. THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING AGAIN." We triple checked the knots. How long had she been missing? I cannot remember the last time I looked back to check on her. "When was the last time you remember her being behind us," I query Anne.
Anne recalls the dinghy being off our stern as we made the turn southward past Conch Cay. If that wily dinghy slipped away in near Conch Cay, then she will be sailing her hull northward across Exuma Sound. We were at least 30 minutes past Conch Cay. As I calculated Origami's speed and course, we spun C'est la Vie and began our pursuit. Let's see one hour with 10 knots of south wind assisted by an ebbing tide. If we did lose Origami in Exuma Sound, then by the time we re-entered the sound she would be beyond our visible horizon. Unless she was within Elizabeth Harbor things did not look promising for another happy ending.
Anne took the helm and ran our course back out to Conch Cay. I took up a position forward and used the field glasses to scan the waters. DAMN, we reached the sound with no sight of Origami. It was beginning to look as if our fate was to part ways. We gave up hope and retreated back through Conch Cay Cut. We began to process what next. How do we find a new dinghy in Georgetown? How much will that cost? How will we face the humiliation of telling the crew of Maralga that we again lost or dinghy?
Prospects seem grim. As Anne and I stood silently, gloomily in the cockpit, the VHF crackled to life.
"C'est la Vie, C'est la Vie this is the Maralga over."
I began to look for sand in which to bury my head.
I slink over to the VHF. I thought I would have a bit of time to steel myself before explaining the loss, again, of our dinghy. Mike in hand, I answer the hail, "Maralga this is C'est la Vie, over."
Albert's voice comes back in reply, "Yes, C'est la Vie have you lost your dinghy again?"
I'm mortified. How did they discover our folly so soon? Processing the options my mind flood's with optimism and my pulse quickens. "Roger, roger Maralga we have lost our dinghy again. Over."
"C'est la Vie we are 8NM north of Conch Cay and have your dinghy 100 meters off our port side."
Unbelievable! The only boat we know within a day's travel and they happen to run across our tiny dinghy drift in Exuma Sound. I cannot even remember my reply. I must have said something because Albert requested that I stand by while he and Marta retrieve Origami and secured her to Maralga. Dumbfounded I returned the mike to its cradle.
Anne and I proceed into Elizabeth Harbor and anchor off the Chat'n'Chill beach along Stocking Island. A few hours later, Maralga with Origami in tow drops her anchor 50 meters off our stern. For the second time in three days I dive into the water and swim to retrieve our lost dinghy.

Origami is still trailing us
Friday August 8th 2008, Exumas

Yes, Origami, stayed tied to our stern through the night. It was the first thing each of us checked as we stirred in the morning. The most plausible scenario is that I mistied her one inch webbing painter to the stern cleat. Then just as we began to travel away from Oven Rock we parted ways. The fact that we traveled an entire day without neither Anne nor I noticing the missing dinghy still troubles and astounds us. We will spend the entire day today making a running joke about checking on Origami. Perhaps humor is the best way for us to deal with the embarrassment of being the cruisers that spent the day searching for their wayward dinghy.
The weather looks promising for us to cover some miles southward in the Exuma Sound. A west southwest wind is predicted for the morning and into the afternoon. A west wind will allow us to sail close hauled southward along the eastern shore of the cays. This combination will also reduce the chop and swell encountered in the exposed, deep waters of Exuma Sound. The tides, flooding in the morning and ebbing in the afternoon, will not provide us assistance in transiting the cuts between the cays, but later in the day, when we do need to run a cut to access an anchorage on the banks the wind and tide will both be flowing the same direction. Any narrow area that produces current at tides ebb and flood (i.e. inlets, cuts, bars, etc.) will become vastly more rough and dangerous for watercraft when winds and tide are opposed. All the boat people out there are nodding their heads and I'm guessing everyone else is scratching their heads. The short of it is Anne and I decided to take advantage of the favorable conditions and travel in the Exuma Sound.
We triple checked, then triple checked Origami's lines and then motored south towards Farmer's Cut. Using the GPS to backtrack our route made our second passage around the east side of Little Farmer's far less stressful. Exiting Farmers Cut we entered a slick calm Exuma Sound. With no wind present we motored south entranced by the sight corals and sea grasses slipping beneath us. We are continually amazed that we can observe the sea bed 20 to 25 meters (70 feet) below us. Tied to the docks in the Barron River we cannot see the bottom at 1.5 meters. Yes Origami is still trailing us.
Taking advantage of the calm condition we elect cross back to the banks through Galliot Cut and say a personal thanks to Maralga, anchored off Cave Cay, for assisting us in searching for Origami. We pass by Maralga, but the crew is not aboard. Taking full advantage of the calms we slip back into Exuma Sound via Cave Cay Cut. Our route begins to look like that of a needle pulling thread in a vain attempt to stitch together the islands. Yes Origami is still trailing us.
As we reenter Exuma Sound the southwest winds begin to build. We hoist the main. Ahh - motor sailing windward under the main is familiar territory on this voyage south against the trade winds. The winds continue to build and veer west. Could it be? We hoist the genny. By 11:45 we silence the motor and are making 4.8 knots velocity made good (VMG) towards Adderly Cut. We are sailing! Yes Origami is still trailing us.
Through mid afternoon the winds continue to support our efforts. By 14:00 we drop the genny and motor sail into familiar waters off Barraterre via Rat Cay Cut. This area is the hub of the Outward Bound School's Exuma Sea Kayak Programs. Passing Boysie Cay an overwhelming sense of accomplishment overtakes me. Many times while working sea kayak courses in the area, I would watch a sailboat slip through these waters. Many times I promised myself that someday I would pilot a sailboat through these waters. Yes Origami is still trailing us.
We anchor C'est la Vie off Square Rock Cay and spend a few hours snorkeling various spots in the area. As day slipped into night the winds veered north and vanished (see image included). To avoid hordes of winded invaders we raise the anchor and move farther away from land. We find good holding in 2.5 meters of water west of Square Rock. I wish we could do that on sea kayaking courses! Yes Origami is still trailing us.

"Where is Origami!?"
Thursday August 7th 2008, Exumas

After a morning ashore exploring the cave and building cairns, we decided to motorsail southward along the banks side. Our afternoon travels took us westward of the Farmers Cay area and then back along the cays in the area of Cave Cay, Musha Cay, Rudder Cay, and eventually down to the Darby Cays. The route covered around 13NM under keel. Midway through the distance we happened upon Maralga anchored off Cave Cay. After a quick hello via the VHF, we continued south toward the Darby Cays. We were awed by the rock formations and caves around Rudder and Darby Cays. Completing a couple hour journey of motor sailing under the main sail we decided to anchor between the Darby Cays. Many of the Outward Bound Sea Kayak staff know these cays as the northern extent of our Exumas Course Area. On longer courses we stop by Darby Island to explore the "castle". The castle, a large green house completed in the 1930's, was constructed by a Nazi sympathizer that dredged the waters between the Darby's in hopes of providing a safe harbor for German U-boats. The inlet was never dredged so it is doubtful that any U-boats visited Darby Island. As we dropped the anchor between the Darby's, Anne, piloting C'est la Vie, looked back off our stern and found no Origami.
" Where is Origami? No, really where is Origami? " Anne shouted forward. Our dinghy was gone. I wenched the anchor back up on deck and we began our frantic search for Origami.
We began with a radio call to Maralga. Albert did not recall seeing our dinghy when we passed them a couple hours previously. Graciously Albert offered to hop in his dinghy and begin the search north of his anchorage off Cave Cay. This area included Cave Cay Cut, Galiot Cut, and Farmers Cut. During our travels through this area the tide was ebbing. If Origami slipped free near any of these cuts she could be adrift, alone in Exuma Sound. We next sent out a radio call to ALL STATIONS informing everyone in the area that we were searching for a lost dinghy.
What had happened? No webbing remained at the stern cleat to which we tie Origami. This meant the knot at the cleat had slipped. Fortunately it was I that had tied the knot. I had no one to blame but myself. Anne took up the post of lookout. She scanned the area with the binoculars while I retraced the day's route.
How had we not noticed her missing? It seems impossible that one of us would not notice the absence of her bobbing gayfully along in tow. We both began to personify Origami. We were both less pained about the trouble or cost of replacing the dinghy than the thought of our little Origami alone, adrift on the wild blue expanse of sea before us. Later Anne and I would reflect on how odd it was that we both had these feelings of compassion for the lifeless dinghy. That discussion would be much later.
We continued to retrace our route searching, searching. We again passed Maralga. Marta waved us on. Albert had not returned from his search. Earlier in the day we had passed west of Little Farmer's Cay. The southwest winds and ebbing tide would have pushed Origami towards Little Farmers. We decided to depart from our initial route and run the area east of Farmers. Along this leg we observed Albert returning to Maralga. He was running the shallow waters off Farmers Cay. We were unable to approach his path of travel, but even from our position 2NM west it was apparent that he did not have Origami in tow. Our optimism sank lower. Time to wallow in our pity was ephemeral. Navigating the shoals surrounding Farmers Cut was much more demanding than I had anticipated. The days waning light greatly diminished our ability to judge water depth or see the shallow coral reefs until dangerously close.
I remember thinking, "OK this is stupid. We are going to ground C'est la Vie in a futile search for the wayward Origami." At this point we were committed to navigating the waters back to our previous night's anchorage off of Oven Rock. To add further despair to our situation the VHF call came in from Maralga. Albert's search for Origami yielded no results.
Anne took the helm and I took up position standing atop the bow pulpit. My attempts at reading the water were limited to about 30 feet out. For the first time in hours my focus shifted from finding Origami to reaching the relatively deep, 2.4 meters, and coral free waters off Oven Rock. By luck, skill, and karma we danced through the three reefs that trouble the passage east of Little Farmers. We now had only a NM mile stretch of shoaled waters that separated us from Oven Rock. The charts stated that good visibility was a must to navigate between the 1 meter deep shoals that line the "deeper channel". The deeper channel averaged approximately 1.7 meters at low tide. The good news was the tide was flooding. The bad news was we were only one hour into the flood.
Once again Anne took the helm and I stood atop the bow pulpit. The search for Origami took backstage to safely navigating C'est la Vie. Of course that is the moment I caught sight of our lost child. Origami lie beached along the western shore of Great Guana Cay a mere 100 meters south of Oven Rock. We must have parted ways just as we raised the anchor for our day's travels. How is that possible? How did neither Anne nor I notice the missing dinghy the entire day? I franticly pointed to Origami. Initially Anne mistook my waving as a sign to quickly turn to starboard.
"NO, NO, "I shouted as my attention returned to piloting C'est la Vie through the narrow channel of skinny water. I leapt from the pulpit and sprinted back to the cockpit. "Origami! Origami!" I spat out as I pointed eastward. Our spirits soared as Oven Rock passed to our stern and the depths reached 3 meters.
The anchor planted in the sea bed, I began swimming ashore to reclaim our wayward dinghy. All's well that ends well - Origami, tethered to our stern, floated blissfully under the stars, our batteries fully charged from the 26NM day that brought us within 1/4NM of the previous night's anchorage, and we felt like the luckiest cruisers in the Exumas.

Thursday August 7th 2008, Great Guana Cay

To assist others in finding the cave we built cairns along the trail back to the beachhead. Building cairns brought me back to days spent wandering around Cochise Stronghold in southern Arizona. The maze of climbers trails in the Cochise area are marked with cairns many of them quite elaborate. We build the large cairn pictured at the head of the trail along the beach

Great Guana Caves
Thursday August 7th 2008, Great Guana Cay

From our anchorage off Oven Rock we went ashore in search of a large cave mentioned in the Exumas' Cruising Guide. After wandering about on numerous small trails, it seems others have combed the area looking for the cave, our efforts were rewarded. We stumbled upon the cool, shady abyss hidden by a thick growth of hardwood trees. Once our eyes adjusted to the limited light, the large cave opening provided enough illumination to explore most of the cave. The bucket pictured above holds a prominent place centered in the cave. Over what must be decades of dripping water, limestone deposits have cemented the bucket to the cave floor. This must have been a settler's method of acquiring fresh drinking water. Even in the current drought, numerous drips from the cave ceiling above feed forming stalagmites along with the bucket. The deepest portions of the cave are filled with freshwater. In the background Anne can be seen wading into the cool water. The guidebook states that cave divers have explore the depths of the cave reaching 70 feet down and 700 feet westward.

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