It's been a while since I have written and honestly filling you in on what has been happening with us feels a bit daunting. Let's see... 5 mantas left little harbor together on the morning of the 10th. We knew that new moon II would be peeling off within a few hours to head north. And then there were 4. We had a beautiful sail to little egg, near current cut, with speed consistently 7-8 knots. It was an eight hour day capped off with cocktails on double wide. Lots of laughs. Friday, the 11 we were at it again at 7:30. This time, circa Trova peeled off to see the glass window and then turn north. Heard from them later that they were in royal waiting for weather. The story of a sailor's life. The last three mantas sailed for 8 hours and anchored at shroud cay.

Shroud is part of the land and sea park in the exhumas. There is a creek system that winds through the mangroves and takes you to the Atlantic. The six of us climbed in our dinghies and went exploring. Double wide has two dogs on the boat, a mini schnauzer and a 4-5 pound 11 month old yorkie. Their names are tugboat and sailor, respectively. We love them and after a questionable intro, lily loves them too. Nice for her to have puppy play pals around. When we stopped at the beach by the ocean, the dogs had a blast, running and swimming.

After two days at shroud we motored to Warderick wells which is where the office of the exhuma cays land and sea park is. And it is some kind of gorgeous. There are a few pictures, but they do not do it justice. The snorkeling was great and I pretty much got over my dopey fear of snorkeling. Never seen such amazing colors of fish as well as plant life, neon everywhere! So quiet and peaceful...until a large barracuda cruised my way. Now I know that it has no interest in me but it still gave me the willies. The rest of the group stayed in. I retreated to a very quiet beach and waited. There is a myth in Warderick wells, specifically about a place called boo! boo! Hill. Michelle told us that a schooner was lost at sea right below a hill and all were drowned. She said on the night of the full moon, from the top of boo! boo! hill, one can hear the departed singing hymns. As it happened, we were there for the full moon. So, at about seven, as the sun was going down and the moon was rising, we set off to find or at least hear the spirits. This was no easy trek. The first third was over uneven limestone, pitted with both large and small holes. Thank goodness it was light out. The second third had us wading through knee deep water. The last was a sandy uphill path. As we rounded the corner, almost to the top, we saw an osprey perched on top of a pile of wood brought by cruisers with boat names on them. We weren't savvy enough to have planned ahead, so there is no proof we were actually there. The osprey seemed quite happy watching us watch him and sat for about 5 minutes before taking off, a beautiful sight in itself. As we were looking for familiar boat names, and drinking our water, we decided to sit for a picture on the memorial bench up there. Jan and Dave have a cool little tripod thing, so we could all be in the pic with the very dark sky and very bright moon in the background. While I was sitting, I heard a low humming noise. Once I determined it was not coming from anyone with me, I asked if anyone heard anything. The noise continued and we all heard it. I suggested it sounded as though someone were blowing air over the top of a bottle. It persisted and we were all wondering if the spirits were among us. Clark decided he was going to go down the hill on the ocean side to see what in the heck was making the sound. We heard him gasp and then laugh, not just his laughter but two laughs. Could it be a spirit? No...it was mike on a trawler named woman to blame. He had seen us hiking up and decided a quick dinghy ride to surprise us was too good to pass up. It was pretty funny and he got us good! Now it was time to retrace our steps, only it was now dark out. I don't care how full a moon it is, it was pretty dark. Along the way, we were joined by what are known as Bahamian rats. They are called hoodias, I think, or I made it up...they look like prairie dogs but have long tails. They were everywhere. I'm not sure whose stupid idea it was, but I led us back with a very wimpy flashlight. No problem an the sandy path, no problem wading, kind of a lot of trouble on the limestone. Marty fell in a hole and took a lovely chunk out of the side of his foot. I fell, got wet, the tide had come in and got a very small scratch on my knee. But the entire episode was so worth it. Good times,good times.

Then we motored on down to staniel cay, one of my favorite spots. We didn't do a lot, as we were there over Easter weekend and it was quite quiet. We saw the piggies on the beach and were excited to see the giant hogs, but three little piggies too. The other five snorkeled the grotto. But, yeah, no I wimped out. Had a little me time...we spent five days waiting for weather, see above, and left on Easter for little farmers cay. We visited terry at ocean cabin and I exchanged a couple books and we had Roosevelt at the yacht club make us his famous rum punches. It was a short stay but the next morning we struck out for Georgetown. The family regatta started yesterday and goes till Saturday and there is a lot to do. This morning was spent at the corner laundry while Marty was on a propane hunt with Clark. Tomorrow is a grocery, liquor store and pharmacy day. Sadly, this is where we will part ways with our friends, double wide and seamiles. They will be turning around and heading for home, San Antonio and Denver, respectively. We will miss and already do all the manta owners we met at the migration. Circa Trova gave three of us a lesson in bread making, which I am attempting as I write. The dough continues to rise and I may find myself swimming in it.

Marty and I still plan on continuing south, just how far remains to be seen!

Later...