Last winter Kim and I spent about a month anchored off of Long Island in the Bahamas. It was great getting to know the wonderful locals and seeing the beautiful sites that Long Island has to offer.

We were horrified watching the news this summer as hurricane Joaquin stalled over Long Island for 32 hours with 125 MPH reported winds.

We are so glad to be back at Long Island now with the port hull of our catamaran stuffed full of donations to help the islanders get back so some form of normalcy. We arrived a few days ago with the idea of just falling into our own personal mission trip. No real organization, no church lead event, just a whim and the trust that we will find those in need and be able to help in some way.

Our first morning here we turned on the VHF radio to listened to the local cruisers net. The net is led by a land based gal, Penny Novak from Ohio. From her and husband John’s hill top home she welcomes new boats to the anchorage and goes over local events, cruisers get-togethers and other miscellaneous items. That morning she announced that the Bahamas Youth Council (BYC) was asking for volunteers to help rebuild their damaged baseball dugouts. So off we went along with about 8-10 other cruisers to spend the day at the youth facility. The guys went to the dugout while the girls went inside their main building to decorate and prepare for the Valentines party that was to happen the next night.

The very next morning there was a group caravanning about 30 miles South of our location to meet in Clarence Town. Off we went again, ready to help clean up the beach where two smaller cruise ships were to come in soon. The office of tourism had requested the volunteer help so the beach would look good for the visitors. Getting the economy back on its feet after such a devastating natural disaster is a must, and this small feat would be the cruisers way of helping. Upon our arrival, the beach indeed needed our work. A bulldozer sat nearby and had obviously been at work already. A large group of cruisers arrived and worked for hours. Some sifting thru the small items, some raking up the beach while others hauled the larger items to piles. In the end, the beach looked fantastic! What a success. So we did what cruisers do best…celebrate! After a short tailgate party at the beach, we converged upon a local restaurant and supported them. Then, about halfway home part of the group stopped at Max Conch Bar and Grill. This is a lovely teaky-hut bar on the side of the road. We were riding with John and Penny and as we pulled off the side of the road I asked them what is this place known for? Penny answered without hesitation “conch salad!” The gal behind the bar took our drink orders and let us know that they are out of conch salad but that they would be making more any moment. We didn’t have to wait long before a Bahamian man showed up with a huge knife and started showing a large pile of vegetables who was boss. I watched as he focused heavily on this project, mincing the conch into small bits, then dumping all of the ingredients into a large bowl. He then squeezed limes and oranges into the mix, taking extra time to cut up the larger chunks of orange and throw them in. He was a master, and the end result was as good as I expected. After finishing off the salad I saw him walk by and let him know just how good the conch salad was. He was very modest and said he was working on getting it right. He and I ended up talking for a long time and as the subject matters got more serious, he really opened up. His name is Gary “Max” Ritchie, and the Max Conch Bar and Grill was his. He started the business years ago on a piece of plywood at the side of the road. “It was right over there” he pointed across the road. I asked him about how he and his business faired through the hurricane. He held his hand just under his waist and said “the water was up to about here right where we are standing.” The interesting part is that you can’t see the ocean from his business, though it isn’t far away. I told him how nice it looked and that I was shocked that so much damage had occurred. He told me how they have since repainted everything and rebuilt the tables. He found most of the tables hundreds of feet away out in the bush, most with missing legs. He shared with me that he was on holiday (vacation) in Colorado when the hurricane hit. When he got back to the island and saw his business in shambles, he went home and didn’t leave the house for 2 weeks. “It was just overwhelming and I didn’t know where to start.” Trying to hold back his emotions he told me “the news said the winds were up to 125MPH. We have parties with winds of 125MPH and just repair a few shingles afterwards. Many people here clocked the winds at over 200.” Eventually he got the courage to go back to the site and start one project at a time. There are still palm trees in the yard with no fronds, but the place was packed and life was getting back to normal.

There are many stories like Garys on the island. Driving along and seeing each damaged home or business, there is a story that goes with each one. A story of life changing completely in a few days’ time. Stories of people pulling together and helping each other in a time of need, rebuilding and becoming closer than ever.

Long Island is back up and running, open for business…and the conch salad has never been better.

Looks like catch up time! Wow...so much has happened since my last update. Well...here's the deal:

Since my last update we decided that being home in Michigan with friends, family and a doing a lil' biz was pretty awesome during the Summer. We originally thought that we would just be home for a few weeks, but in time we realized that we would be there from June thru October. And it was likely that would be the case each year. With that thought, we decided to sell the house we were in that we affectionately called the "Hotel/Storage unit" and buy a cottage on a lake. See, the hotel/storage house was a nice house, but was located within watermelon seed spitting distance of a highway. There were no good views from the house, and the noise was disturbing to the peace of daily living (especially after months of sailing and quiet harbors). Bottom line...we missed the water terribly. So the plan was simple....just put this house up for sale and buy a cottage on a lake nearby. Sure enough, the house sold and we went cottage shopping. We decided on a lake, but couldn't find that "right" cottage.

October arrived and we needed to move out and get to the temporary boat. She had been for sale all Summer but didn't sell, so we decided to sail her from Florida back to the Bahamas. We packed up, hired movers and rented a storage unit for our stuff. Yup...we were officially homeless in Michigan. There is some irony in that since we own hundreds of rental units that other people live in. Oh well...we still had a floating home in Florida. The last batch of stuff to pack was all of the boat stuff that we brought home last year (expecting that the temp-boat would sell). I carefully loaded our full size SUV with the boat stuff, barely leaving room for 2 occupants. It was a Jack-in-the-Box on wheels just waiting to pop out. I warned Kim "don't open any door except the front doors!"

We arrived at the boat and started the process of loading the dinghy with one load at a time and moving back on board. It was great to be back on the water. After moving about 1/3 of our stuff on board, our boat broker called to let us know that a potential buyer wants to see the boat. Long story short...she sold. So we loaded the stuff back on to the dinghy...one load at a time, and back in to the SUV. Then unloaded the SUV into a rented storage unit in Florida. Now it was official...we were homeless, period.

The Isara 45 catamaran that we had ordered to be built was supposed to be completed and delivered in June of 2014, and while we had been very patient, we finally canceled the order since they never did start construction of the boat 2 ½ years after ordering her. It was an emotional decision...very disappointing, but we decided that life is what you make of it.

We started shopping for new boats that were already built as well as lightly used boats. Over the next month or so we, um...well...uh...okay okay I moved back in with my parents, ok?! Sheesh, so what if I'm 48 years old and homeless. My Mom and Dad divorced a few years back and have both remarried, yet live only a few miles apart in Central Florida during the winter months. I joked with them that I will follow the Friend of the Court's order and spend 4 days at each house. They all ended up being life savers as we shopped for boats and bought supplies and provisions for the new boat.

We also bought loads of items that we aquired with the intent to sail them to Long Island, Bahamas. We spent about a month on Long Island last year and got to know many of the locals. We watched in horror this summer on the news as Hurricane Joaquin stalled over the South end of Long Island, sitting there for nearly 3 days with 125 MHP winds. It devastated that part of the island, leaving people with damaged homes and the loss of all of their household goods. We intend to make this our personal mission trip as we donate needed items like pots/pans, bedding, toys and more. Even the afore mentioned church donated childrens' books to the cause. Other cruisers, friends and family donated to the cause too. We plan to see if we can help rebuild with our labor as well as we stay there on the boat. While there, we won't be using there housing, water or food as we are bring our own.

Anyways, we ended up buying a 2014 Leopard 44 sailing catamaran. Woo hoo! No longer homeless! Her owners had barely used her (300ish hours on the engines, less than 30 hours on the generator). She spent most of her short life at the docks. Well, "FREEDOM" meet the McCracken's...now, let's sail!

We left Ft. Myers Beach Florida (Gulf of Mexico) a few days after closing the sale (about 2 weeks ago) and sailed to Naples to visit with friends and relatives, then sailed directly to Marathon Key and under the 65' tall "7 Mile Bridge" with our 62' 2" mast (zoinks!), then stayed in Marathon for a few days waiting for a good weather window. From there we sailed across the Atlantic Ocean's Gulf Stream, using the current to boost our speeds to N. Bimini Island. Staying one night, we sailed from there straight through to Spanish Wells Eleuthera, where we are currently.

Today we enjoyed our first day of real Bahamas weather. I enjoyed an unsuccessful lobster hunt and a soon-to-be-famous "McCracken" rum drink. Up until now, both here and in Florida we have been sailing based on good current weather conditions along with good forecasts. Yet we have incurred several storms with high winds, rain, thunder, lightning and ferocious waves. FREEDOM really showed that she was built to handle the ocean as she calmly made her way through. She gave us comfort in times that may have otherwise made us terrified. We are really feeling at home on her.

Ha, truth is that we just recently moved on board and can't find a damn thing! But that's no different than moving into a house. We packed at least two wine cork openers. We can't find either, so we bought one while grocery shopping. Now we can't find that one either and just bought ANOTHER one! Sure enough, we will find the other 3 soon enough.

Until then, we plan to haul out here at a boat yard in about 10 days when they have an opening to get the bottom painted and some other miscellaneous work done.

This whole idea of making the most of life seems to be paying off well. I pray that anyone who reads this will do the same with their lives. Sail on~

In the movies I’ve seen the portrayals of the small town, all black, Southern churches. I’m sure you’ve seen them too with the ladies in dresses that actually shine, and large fancy hats to go with them. It adds so much character to the movie to see the pastor get so energized and really GIVE the sermon with everything he’s got. And then to listen to the choir sing out like no church I’ve actually been to. But the frosting on the cake is how the congregation reacts to it all…hands raising, outbursts of “AMEN!” or “YES LORD!” Even outbursts during the sermon like a flabbergasted “WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!” The pastor moves on like nothing was said and nobody in the congregation pays any mind to the person with the outburst.
Kim and I have been members of the First Presbyterian Church in Alma MI for a couple of decades (Kim was raised in the Presbyterian Church). It’s a church filled with white, rather conservative people. It’s been a nice church experience, but I’ve always wondered what it would be like to worship like the people in the movies. Is it just sensationalized on the big screen or are there really churches like that? I’ve said it to Kim several times over the years…”just once, wouldn’t it be cool to walk in to one of those churches on a Sunday morning as the only white people there and just absorb the energy of the place?” Beyond the crazy looks we would obviously get for being such stand-out minorities, I’ve always felt that this would be a fun learning experience. So I put it on my mental bucket list (I’ve yet to make a written one).
It’s late October when we find ourselves in Florida with our lives once again in limbo. We’ve just packed up our entire house back in Michigan and put all of our household furniture and belongings into a storage unit for the winter. We had sold the house and had yet to replace it. We then packed the SUV with all of our “boat stuff” and enough clothing and other things to live on the boat for the next 6-7 months. The boat had been for sale in Florida all Summer and hadn’t sold, so we were prepared to head back to the islands on her instead of upgrading to a nicer, larger boat as we had planned. Just as we started to unpack the SUV into the boat, we got an offer of the boat. Now we were left with the unsure feelings of whether the boat sale would go through and what would happen if it did. With no summer house in Michigan and now the potential of our winter home selling, I was starting to take a solid look at the underside of highway overpasses as our future home.
One day we were just returning to the over-packed SUV at a large retail store. I was walking around the rear corner of our vehicle when I was abruptly met by a large black man who was headed in the opposite direction. I’ve gotta think that most people who are from small towns that are mostly white would be a little shaken by this experience, but I had just spent the previous winter in the islands where I was the minority and learned that most people are GOOD people. We made instant eye contact and I smiled and gave him a friendly greeting. He returned the smile and the greeting. He got about 10 steps away and he stopped. He turned around and walked back to me and said “excuse me, but I couldn’t help but get the feeling that you are a Christian.” I confirmed this for him and he said “well, my church…we have a special event coming up and I have a flyer in my car.” He awkwardly added “I mean, it’s an all black church but you would be welcome to come.” I told him with enthusiasm that I would love to have one of the flyers. I really didn’t want to go to the special event; I wanted to go to the regular church service. And while we lost the flyer in our hectic life, it was this encounter that spurred on the desire to check this off the bucket list.
It was a hot and muggy Sunday in Florida, but Kim and I set out to find the perfect little Southern church. As we followed the voice of the navigation lady that lives in the SUV, we drove through neighborhoods with homes that were small and needed repair. I’m sure there were times when we would have welcomed the Nav-lady to say “do a U-turn when possible.” But we trucked on and drove past a small Baptist church with all black people entering it. They were as dressed up as in the movies! It wasn’t the church that the Nav was taking us to, but it looked just perfect so we put the window down and asked ‘what time does service start?” A nice young lady replied “11am.” It was 10:56.
We had put on our best boat clothes for the occasion. For me this meant a casual pair of khaki pants and a polo shirt…complete with my sandals. Kim of course put herself together much better but we were definitely the most casually dressed people walking in to this church. I was enamored with the ladies dresses. I’m not sure what kind of material makes a dress shine like that, but these were definitely “Sundays best.”
As much as we stood out like a white carnation on an all-black tuxedo, we were welcomed like any visitor to a church would be. I was expecting some “looks” that would show their surprise at our arrival, but didn’t get a single one. Genuine smiles and friendly handshakes ushered us in. Introductions were made with those in our pew and they were helpful during the whole service guiding us through things.

The music was “feel-good” music with a good positive beat that made you tap your feet or sway. And when certain people took on a solo, it was overwhelming to hear how gifted they were.
During the sermon a guy a few seats away suddenly stood up. I went into instant alert, thinking that it must be time for us all to stand up and he is just the first one to do it. But no, he raised his hands and closed his eyes and was just taking it all in. That was the beginning of many actions and outbursts that went on during the entire service. They didn’t just listen to the message…they FELT it. The message went in to them, and it came out of them. What I didn’t expect is that being in the presence of this made me feel it too! At our church I certainly get my religious cup filled and I can feel that. But this day, there were times during the service where I was nearly in tears. I was inspired by those around me and their willingness to let go and let it all in.
At the end of the service a lot more people came up to us and told us how glad they were that we had come to visit today. We left with not just with another check mark on the bucket list, but with our cups overflowing.

In the Far Bahamas lies a group of islands called the Acklins. We’ve been exploring those islands while buddy-boating with a great Canadian couple, Jeff and Janet from Nova Scotia, who are aboard a 37’ monohull named Truant III. We had a pleasant sail from Acklins Island to Long Cay (pronounced “key”) and decided to take a pit stop along the way at a large coral reef. Yes, Jeff and I had a condition known as Lobster Fever. As we neared the reef several dolphins played in our bow wake. We quickly anchored, put on our snorkel gear and the Truant III crew got to swim with the dolphins for a short spell. After that it was down to business; Kim spotted a lobster and called me over to get him. Jeff also got one so we quickly cleaned them and pulled up anchor; A Nascar pit crew would not have been more efficient. Once we got to Long Cay and set anchor, Jeff and Janet came over to our boat and we all jumped in to our dinghy and headed towards the pink shoreline. The ladies were very excited to see that the pink hue was caused by a flock of flamingos on the shore, so we tried to sneak up on them for a good view. Now, “sneaking” up on a flock of edgy birds is really not easy with the Rat-Tat-Tat of a 2 stroke outboard and 2 geeked-up gals chatting away. We went past them then shut off the engine, letting the winds and current drift us back towards the on-guard flock as Jeff and I gave the girls that Shhh look. After lots of photos, the flock took off and we walked the dinghy through the calf-deep water until we could beach it on a small spit of sand. As I walked to shore to join the group, the water got even shallower and I spotted a small Stingray feeding on the bottom. A crab was right behind him picking up the scraps. I called everyone over so they could watch and the crab got nervous and disappeared, but the Stingray continued on his quest. Eventually he looked up and spotted the 4 of us hovering right over him and shot out of there like lightning. I walked the rest of the way to shore and was startled as that crab emerged from under the sand…as I stepped on him! His multiple legs really just tickled the bottom of my foot but I must have jumped 10 feet when it happened.
After walking the salt ponds and admiring the flamingo tracks we hopped back in the dinghy and headed for the jetty that would lead us to Albert Town, the only settlement on Long Cay. I didn’t do my research on about this island before coming ashore so I wasn’t sure what to expect. We packed the computer so I could stop at an internet café and work on my monthly business reports, and we brought cash for drinks and lunch. Come to find out, Long Cay used to be called Fortune Island over a 100 years ago back when the population was over 2,000 and it was a fuel station for coal-fired ships. It is a much different place now.
A small fishing boat with 2 local guys in it pulled up to the jetty as we tied up the dinghy. They were very friendly and we talked with them for some time, asking questions about Albert Town that was about a mile over the hill from where we were. While the locals speak English, their accent is heavy and sometimes it’s hard to make out what is being said. One of us asked them what the population of the island was, and he replied “fifteen.” We all joined in to help decipher what that meant by nodding and saying “fifteen thousand, yes?” He simply repeated, “Fifteen.” So you mean Fifteen hundred then? “FIFTEEN…ONE-FIVE” he repeated with a tone that implied that these white people must all have hearing issues. His buddy added “well, there was a death last night on the island.” I stated the obvious “So that makes the population 14 now.” Everyone nodded in that Allll-righty-then kind of way, wondering if this could be for real.
After the hilly walk to town we were all hot, thirsty and ready for lunch. But as we approached the village we noted more sandy roads and several small houses, but no people, cars, stores or restaurants. It was eerie as we got to the ocean side with the town pavilion only occupied by a stuffed scare crow sitting in a chair; not a single person anywhere. A 1980’s style phone booth sat on an ocean front piece of land with an amazing view. The steady hum of a large generator came from the edge of town and near it was the only sign in the entire town that told us that the generator belonged to the electric company. I find it hard to grasp that solar and wind aren’t used more in places like this that are blessed with plenty of both. We walked every street in the tiny village and still saw no people, no stores of any type and not even a vending machine with water or soda. As we lugged our back pack with the computer in tote, it became quite obvious that the marketing team from Starbucks had decided that the demographics here didn’t justify building one of their stores. WiFi was out of the question, not to mention lunch or even a drink of water. Just when I was starting to think that I was stuck in a Twilight Zone episode, we heard voices coming from a small building. The door was open and as we walked up to it we realized that this little 900 square foot building was a school and the voice was coming from the teacher. “Are we interrupting?” I asked as we walked up the steps. She smiled and said “please, come in…come in!” The small one room school had 3 desks; one for the teacher and 2 for the only two children on the island (2 boys, ages 7 and 9). The boys were dressed in neat school uniforms and seemed a bit surprised by our visit. They were shy until we introduced ourselves as visitors from the United States and Canada. The teacher asked them to read the top line from their open books to us which stated that visitors often come to the Bahamas. And there we were, right on cue and now it was show and tell time. They pulled down the large world map and we showed them where home was for us and where we have traveled in our sailboats. The boys sung their school anthem to us, then the teacher had them show off their math skill for us on the white board. We applauded at the results and they just beamed. We offered to make a small donation so the school could buy some items not covered by Government funds and the teacher gratefully accepted. As we walked back to towards the jetty, the two boys came running after us calling for us to return to the school as the teacher need to tell us something. When we arrived she smiled from ear to ear as she informed us that she had called the Superintendent and discussed the donations. She simply wanted to share with us how they had decided to spend the funds.
After the long hike and dinghy ride back to the boats we were as exhaustingly hot, hungry and completely parched as I’ve been in a long time, but our hearts were filled with the good people of the Bahamas.

Great Inagua beach paaaaaty